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fall poem

se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
era una bellezza nei giorni
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
riempio questa tazza
ho lanciato il mondo
mi chiedono dove sono stato
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
penso spesso alla città bella
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
era un oysterman giovane alto
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda

 



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