I want to cry over my pain
and I'll tell you why I cry
and love me in a sunset nightingales
with a dagger and a kiss with you.
I want to kill the only witness
this murder of my flowers
and change the anguish of my weeping
in durum wheat in a sheaf forever.
That skein never unravels
of love you love me, all glowing yes!
with decrepit old sun and moon.
What I do not do not you ask me,
no, ma non Muoi and Di Lascia Traccia
sussulto della nell'estremo meat.
***
I mourn my sentence and I say
to รบ t want me and I cry
a evening of nightingales,
with a dagger, with kisses and you.
I want to kill the only witness
for the murder of my flowers
and turn my tears and my sweat
in eternal lot of hard wheat.
That never ends Hank
Quie te I want, semper blazed
with decrepit sun and old age.
That what we do not give me and do not ask
be for death, which leaves no
or shade in the quivering flesh.
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