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retirement poem

pentru aceste arme albe despre gâtul meu
de noapte este întuneric, şi de vânt de iarna
de arcuri de pod roşu
lumina retrase
am avut peste-a pregătit eveniment
fi pacient, de viaţă, când dragostea este la poarta
îndoliat în numere
Impunerea, lupta vainly
ea a fost un concurs de frumuseţe în de zile
îmi iubesc ora de vânt şi de lumina
i amintesc încă fără îndoială


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