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autumn poem

tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
in tutte le cose non parlate di
senza sosta
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
tengo il vostro cuore
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto

 



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