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lyric poem

ho visto la prima pera
dal ponticello rude
la luce ritirata
vado il mio senso complacently
morbido come la base nella terra
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
fate non sentirsi
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
le vecchie canzoni
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscurità
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
aumentato dai morti
lungo una riva del fiume
chi è il corridore nei cieli

 



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