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fall poetry

non sia arrabbiato con me
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
le vecchie canzoni
siete vivi?
perchč
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
che cosa noi ora farŕ
conosco non dove
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
tutto l'mio amore per il mio dolce
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
diami la fame

 



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