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good bye poem

dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
nous nous étendons
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
et mon nom est véridique
dans votre vol
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
je suis vieux et aveugle

 



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