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math poem

quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della cittŕ
pensieri tramite la mia testa
forse č materia che avete morto
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
l'aria č come una farfalla
i giorni malinconici sono venuto
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
gli archi del ponticello rosso
amilo in fine, o se non
il prato stava strisciando
aumentato dai morti
sto cantando voi
non si addolori che finito
il sole č in su

 



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