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christmas poem

sotto il timone del guerriero
le preghiere bianche piccole
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
ma alas, sogni giusti
due file dei cavoli
il sole è in su
morbido come la base nella terra
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
da me indegno e sconosciuto
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
li ho sentiti nella notte
per verità, per amore

 



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