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benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
non rimanga nient'altro
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
travails della terra
faccialo rotare giù dal prato
quando vado di nuovo a terra
ancora tredici anni
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite

 



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