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type of poetry

il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
passé persistant de thou
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
je suis las d'être amer et las d'être sage
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
le parfum est venu
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
le soleil est vers le haut
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
près d'un champ en détresse
calme en tant que que deuxième été

 



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