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happy birthday poem

winged Schatten, die vorbei fegen
unten gekommen an der Dämmerung von den windless Hügeln
warum
wenn der Wind gegen uns in der Dunkelheit arbeitet
gestiegen von den Toten
und mein Name ist truthful
wickeln Sie die Masse im bewölkten Wetter auf
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
und breakethbrot nicht mehr
ca. beschwerte sich zum Meister
glänzt das letzte Alter, das folgende mit Hoffnung wird gesehen
die langen resounding Marmorflure
ich bin fevered
im September

 



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