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per allora senza
non sia falso
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
riempio questa tazza
della l'oscuritŕ e pace nel mia base finale
le ombre delle navi
il sole ha fatto un passo giů dal suo throne dorato
un miglio dietro
mescolisi
benchč repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
malinconia, azzurro era
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso

 



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