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lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
faccialo rotare giù dal prato
del sole né stelle
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
appena come mie barrette su queste chiavi
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
ascolti il mare suonante
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri

 



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