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epic poetry

ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
doucement pleurant
hors de la mer de scintillement
j'ai dit
ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
jusqu'à sa fenêtre de chambre
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
je me suis tenu
les vieilles chansons
vous dites que vous m'aimez
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
dites-moi pas

 



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