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poem for dad

nu fi suparat cu mine
lasa-ma sa fi trist
de înaltă rasă nascut
ne-au pic de ruşine?
în timp ce stăteam de ascultare, de prost discret
Şi aşa mai merge
Fata ei este corect şi bine şi de buna
noastre de momente placute zbura
în întuneric şi pacea mea finală de pat
acolo de la fereastra in vechea casa
Strălucire prin câmpuri am dansat
îmi iubesc ora de vânt şi de lumina
Te-am vazut prima de pere
sub lună plină

 



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