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angel poem

il giorno č fatto
andato prima di noi
indietro, giri indietro
le veritŕ terribili questi sono
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
una foschia stava guidando giů
e con l'uccello di ronzio
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
tristemente parlando
ed il mio nome č sincero
mi domando dove vivete
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
cara moglie

 



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