|Dream Song 32|
And where, friend Quo, lay you hiding across malignant half my years or so? One evil faery it was workt night, with amoroso pleasing menace, the panes shake where Lie-by-the-fire is waiting for his cream. A tiger by a torrent in rain, wind, narrows fiend's eyes for grief in an old ink-on-silk, reminding me of Delphi, and, friend Quo, once was safe imagination as sweet milk. Let all the flowers wither like a party. And now you have abandoned own your young & old, the oldest, people to a solitudinem of mournful communes, mournful communes. Status, Status, come home.
| entrada | Llibre del Tigre | sèrieAlfa | varia | Berliner Mauer |