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mother poem

il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
è andato
ho visto la prima pera
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
li ho fatti un'offerta tutto l'addio
un uccello ha cantato
riassunto su una notte di volo
esprimiamo le nostre passioni più basse
quel compagno sconosciuto è venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
volontà glimmer sul mare?
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma

 



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