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Dream - dream
Sorrowful seems this end of mourn;
maybe in tear woods cry - cries adorn,
a foolish end that merits near,
my tragicomical nostalgia to appear;
dream - dream my anguished stare,
amid sea waves and black rocks bare,
for you that didn't ask to be torn,
in sepia stills, modes of a brass horn.
Up in air, where winds are hurting,
potable loneliness, tears are flirting;
drink- drink my exorbitant pleasure,
and spill in clouds, tearful measure.
poem
by
Giorgio Veneto
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