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type of poem

il giorno č fatto
glooms delle viv-quercie
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
babylon -- dove vado sognare
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
mistero piů scuro e piů sconosciuto
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
truely
č venuto prenderlo dalla mano
il sole ha fatto un passo giů dal suo throne dorato
tristemente parlando
ancora tredici anni
ho avuto un sogno e mi sono svegliato con esso
del sole né stelle

 



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