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father poem

la gradisco
perchč cosě triste mio bello?
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
corsa alto-sopportata
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
faccialo rotare giů dal prato
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
non appenda corona
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure
la fragranza č venuto
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
č aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
mentre mi sono levato in piedi ascoltare, discreetly dumb

 



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