Opening a page by chance from…

Poesie, Dylan Thomas, La grande poesia Corriere della Sera, pag. 122

——————————

 

II.

In the name of the lost who glory in

The swinish plains of carrion

Under the burial song

Of the birds of burden

Heavy with the drowned

And the green dust

And bearing

The ghost

From

The ground

Like pollen

On the black plume

And the beak of slime

I pray though I belong

Not wholly to that lamenting

Brethren for joy has moved within

The inmost marrow of my heart bone

(Drupal 15.10.2007)

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