soul that I see,
not invisible, but
made of jasper,
remains motionless lookout
the edge of doom.
I do not see her face, nor understand
only look in his eyes, behind the veil
dull
that unfolds at times.
behind his shadow,
flow travelers,
not go into homes, nor shall
influences
or lead miasma.
The sky is hazy,
evolves in some cycles, a star behind
there is always the way forward
and dance.
We would like your order
was also our
its beauty
our wonder.
But look, oh man,
Without your voice,
your dim light, without tears
that breaks the dams than usual,
who understand the sky?
Without blood,
equal
so different from that of a dog,
fish, beast,
Without the fuck, so different
equal
than the lark,
frog Spider
Without migration
so different is the same,
from seed,
swallow, brook,
in times of plenty
and destruction, those who understand
blood, sex,
your diaspora?
Without those memories, those who carry around
lime, ashes and graves?
Without you,
Who sings?
Who would stand her voice?
Who would give you my hand to stand up?
Sentry
bar my way, not giving
hate
or Serbian love
is impassive,
beautiful. Without rancor or
heartbeat.
She looks at me and waits
l'ultima prova.
È lì, per quell'unica certezza.
Poi sparirà, con noi.
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