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teacher poem

quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
non eravamo molti
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
in tutte le cose non parlate di
dal ponticello rude
rose ed oro
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscuritŕ
quindi non posso
i giorni endeared ad ogni MUSE
era un oysterman giovane alto
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
del sole né stelle
nobility della morte ancora

 



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