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erotic poem

enveloppez la terre par temps nuageux
maintenant pour un combat vif et gai
dans ma main je me tiens
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
faible-envolée est la chanson
simplement parlant
la nuit était noire et triste
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
orage
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
à l'aube, il a dit

 



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