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sad death poem

la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
mai in tutta la mia vita
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
i poets dicono a
ho detto
glooms delle viv-quercie
rinnovi la visione di piacere
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
sopra il fiume beckon a me
non rimanga nient'altro
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
riempio questa tazza
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro

 



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