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short friendship poem

ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
e pane del breaketh non di pił
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
con il tramonto
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
l'amore č stato cantato mille sensi
č ci qualcuno lą
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno

 



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