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sad poetry

ceea ce a fost el de motoarele de spus
acolo nu a fost niciodată un sunet de lângă lemn, dar
sufletul meu este un domeniu întuneric ploughed
am avut un vis şi i trezit cu asta
de duminică, nici stele
există un oraş, de către nici o parte cladite
răsunător timp de coridoarele de marmura
răspândire sub un copac castan
i agita părul meu în vânt, de dimineata
i nu poate spune te acum
plânge că nu-l este de peste
ea izbucni cumplit de vin
de nesfârşită, prostesc de bucurie stele

 



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