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son poem

schön
der Himmel
es gab eine Zeit in den ehemaligen Jahren
im Hafen neuen Yorks
ich wundere mich, wo Sie leben
mittlere Vergnügen und Paläste, obwohl wir durchstreifen können
aus dem funkelnden Meer heraus
melancholische Tage sind gekommen
sie hat einen freien Raum, Wind-geschütztes loveliness
lassen Sie mich durch die Straße langsam bewegen
warum dann, Muß wir? sieht
mit dem Sonnenuntergang
hoch-getragenes Rennen
einmal dieser weiche Rasen

 



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