Dan Uriel Biography

Are you cold? Well tell me, can you believe
Who lives heated in five rooms
Its walls have snowy landscapes
Naked women set apple trees
...

oh the man is finally race
It reaches a sad plane watery
and looks away thoughtfully and cleverly
but never reached hope
...

I read the letter
how the lines cry of secret
tear my heart on my corpse
and yet, still jubilant letter
...

Oh wailing, sad voices, I wrote the books
And now that I'm driving the lid on you
I can't believe I cried so much
That so much sweet, drunken boo was fermented in me
...

the old couch wallow in the sun
brought with it the scent of forests
and everyonejoy still not left
...