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suicide poem

se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
come livellare cade
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
dato che, se faceste una pausa oggi il mio lato
era una bellezza nei giorni
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
glooms delle viv-quercie
nella sfera
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
non giri la vostra testa
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
le canzoni antiche
cane dal percalle ed il gatto del calicň
ascolti il mare suonante

 



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