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suicide poem

basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
non si addolori che finito
chi è il corridore nei cieli
poco parco che attraverso
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
mi sono sentito che una principessa sicura
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
quando vado di nuovo a terra
benchè repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
mistero più scuro e più sconosciuto
quindi non posso

 



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