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suicide poem

non eravamo molti
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
era molte e molto un anno fa
sotto la luna della raccolta
vecchio vino da bere
non dal mondo largo di tutto
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
tengo il vostro cuore
a che cosa una donna la paragonerà cara
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
un uccello ha cantato
una penna di acciaio
vivo dalla riva del fiume
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred

 



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