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angel poem

era un oysterman giovane alto
quel compagno sconosciuto č venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
le vecchie canzoni
una vita sull'onda dell'oceano
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
all'interno della mia mano tengo
metŕ di piaceri e palazzi benchč possiamo vagare
benchč sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
morbido come la base nella terra
non prego per pace
impaurito nient'altro, dico

 



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