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sorry poem

ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
nobility della morte ancora
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
non appenda corona
in pieno delle rotture
truely
eliminazione, lottante vainly
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
tengo il vostro cuore
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
sono andato su e giù le vie

 



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