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christmas poem

figlie di tempo
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
esprimiamo le nostre passioni piů basse
li ha fatti mai vedono un coccodrillo
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
la penso splendido giusto
nelle mattine nube-grige
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
se fossi molto sicuro
poco cancello č stato raggiunto in fine
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble

 



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