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mom poem

non eravamo molti
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
le navi stanno trovandosi nella baia
qui si trova una signora la piů bella
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
semplicemente parlando
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
la neve bisbiglia circa me
l'aria č come una farfalla
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
all'alba, ha detto
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
mi chiedono dove sono stato

 



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