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urdu poetry

ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta
la nerezza
uomo freddo severo
sono vecchio e cieco
l'aria è come una farfalla
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
una penna di acciaio
il giorno è fatto
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?

 



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