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poem for pastors

sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
mi sono levato in piedi
nella sfera
ultima mezzanotte
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente č stata mescolata
mescolisi
chi č il corridore nei cieli
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
noi che si sono levati in piedi
se fossi molto sicuro
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire

 



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