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grandmother poem

e con l'uccello di ronzio
devo dire buona notte
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
aumentato dai morti
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
che probabilitĂ  spiteful ruba i unawares
vecchio vino da bere
basamento qui dal mio lato
quale desidero rilevare
rinnovi la visione di piacere

 



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