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| da www.reversedfilm.blogspot.com |
Quella foschia bianca
Distesa sui prati
Nelle mattine d’aprile
È troppo soffice
Per accoglierne
Il lento proseguire
E si dissolve
Come a volte le persone
All’approssimarsi della Luce.
That white haze
Lying on the grass
In the morning of April
It is too soft
in order to receive
The slow go
It dissolves
Like sometimes people
As we approach the light.
Lying on the grass
In the morning of April
It is too soft
in order to receive
The slow go
It dissolves
Like sometimes people
As we approach the light.
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