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grandmother poem

hanno gettato una pietra, voi hanno gettato una pietra
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
il giorno è fatto
vecchio vino da bere
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
facce belle e tragical
una penna di acciaio
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
prima del san bronze solenne
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente

 



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