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type of poem

ha scoppiato il vino feroce
dal puntello, dal mare
ad alcuno i dii grassi
l'aria č come una farfalla
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore
quegli occhi neri i una volta cosě elogiato
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
piantiamo
non appenda corona
dal mare scintillante
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
non ci č moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso

 



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