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sad poetry

ho vinto la corsa
ho fatto una volta soltanto un voto, uno
uomo freddo severo
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
le stelle sono caduto da cielo
amavo una donna
figlie di tempo
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
non giri la vostra testa
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?

 



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