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short poem

quando ero un ragazzo all'università
una parola di volo di qui e là
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
non dal mondo largo di tutto
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
che cosa era esso i motori detti

 



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