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funny poem

perchč cosě triste mio bello?
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
non sia arrabbiato con me
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
dicami piů di meno o dicami di piů
ho vinto la corsa
alti pareti ed enorme
dicami non
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
hanno avuti lui e la i ma venuto a contatto di
nel vostro volo
uno sguardo č ma un raggio
portimi la canzone morbida

 



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