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retirement poem

l'aria è piena l'alba del e la molla
non giri la vostra testa
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
addolorisi non per l'invisibile
nella terra silenziosa
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
fiori dei bambini
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure
oscillato nella culla del profondo
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
mai in tutta la mia vita

 



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