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baby poem

in settembre
un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
ed il mio nome è sincero
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
la luce ritirata
ascolti il mare suonante
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
non appenda corona
è ci qualcuno là
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred

 



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