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african american poetry

un pensiero dolce solenne
gli archi del ponticello rosso
all'interno della mia mano tengo
l'aria è piena l'alba del e la molla
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
uomo freddo severo
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della città
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
potremmo ma sapere

 



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