it is a hole of greenery where a river sings
hanging madly to grasses
tatters of money
where sun of the mountain shone
it is a small valley which foams of rays a young soldier stop
open naked head and the nape
bathes in cool blue cresses
sleep it is wide in grass under the naked one
pale in its green bed where the light rains the feet
in the gladeoli it sleeps smiling
as would smile a sick child
it makes a nap Nature
rocks it warmly: it is cold
the perfumes do not make any more shiver
its nostril it sleeps in the sun
the hand on its tranquille chest
two red holes on the right
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment