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wedding poem

l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
quando vado di nuovo a terra
come livellare cade
dal ponticello rude
e come potreste sogno della riunione
non giri la vostra testa
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della cittŕ
per allora senza
vado il mio senso complacently
il merriment infinito e insensato delle stelle
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo

 



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