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baby poem

sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
ho visto con gli occhi aperti
candele che si rovesciano obliquamente in latte del pomodoro
quando venite stasera
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
eliminazione, lottante vainly
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta

 



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