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spanish poem

nel porto di nuovo York
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
e pane del breaketh non di più
penso spesso alla città bella
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
è spesso non così?
ha detto
glooms delle viv-quercie
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
era molte e molto un anno fa
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
il mio dispiacere, quando è qui con me

 



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