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def poetry

veda, rinviano
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
una penna di acciaio
sopra il fiume beckon a me
sono il vento che esita
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
osservare di lŕ
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless

 



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