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teen poem

di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
ma non posso ora leggerlo
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
faccialo rotare giů dal prato
sopra loro tutte, osservando giů
ed il mio nome č sincero
rose ed oro
dio
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla piů in anticipo
moonlight profondo e tenero

 



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