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memorial poem

basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
uno con voi
a volte mi domando se č realmente allineare
desolato e solo
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente
sono andato su e giů le vie
alti pareti ed enorme
sentite la pioggia?
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi

 



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