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poem for pastors

non sia arrabbiato con me
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima è athirst
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
la festività reale è stata fatta
i corridoi di marmo resounding lunghi
scuro-eyed
al lato di un campo raso
ci era uno strangeness sui vostri labbri
faccia i ragazzi e le ragazze ancora vanno
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure

 



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