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narrative poetry

le montagne sono gente silenziosa
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
quale desidero rilevare
nobility della morte ancora
quando vado di nuovo a terra
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
la signora, il vostro cuore si è girata verso polvere
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
malinconia, azzurro era
forse
dal puntello, dal mare
mi domando dove vivete

 



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