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all'interno della mia mano tengo
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
in settembre
impaurito nient'altro, dico
il sole ha fatto un passo giĂą dal suo throne dorato
città che non è una città
ciò è l'arsenale
mille anni silenziosi fa
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
devo dire buona notte
penso spesso alla cittĂ  bella
ed il mio nome è sincero

 



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