I fogli della caduta sono pi rossi dei fiori della molla, non hanno polline ed inoltre a volte volano, poich il vento li istruisce fuori o gi in banchi o nei droves: bench non sia qui desiderare, posso guardare in su il cielo la notte e dire a come le cose sono probabili andare per i cento milione anni futuri: l'universo probabilmente non trover un senso sparire n la I in tutti che cronometrino riappare.
Volunteers needed to translate poetry into different languages. Please help us correct the translation of these poems. We currently have 79,663 translations and are trying to create the largest and most accurate database of world poetry translations. We have started with machine translations which are very inaccurate. Please translate your favorite poem on this site. You will be given credit for your translation and a link to your site if desired. COPYRIGHT NOTICE: These poems have been gathered and submitted by many of people, and from many sources. Most have no copyright. However, some may may have copyrights. We have tried to collect poems that appear on many external sites where the author seems to want to disseminate. If you are an author and do not want your poetry translated into other languages then send a removal request and it will be promptly removed.
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