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life poem

nobility della morte ancora
sono andato su e giů le vie
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si č sviluppata
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
calma come che seconda estate
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della cittŕ
ho visto le stelle piů fiere
sono nell'amore con gli alti posti far-seeing
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco

 



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