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amilo in fine, o se non
nella terra silenziosa
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
quando ero si č rotto a Londra
ho avuto un timore nella mia vita
senza sosta
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
vivo dalla riva del fiume
ombre alate che scopano vicino
una parola di volo di qui e lŕ
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
poco cancello č stato raggiunto in fine
quale desidero rilevare

 



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