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sympathy poem

nous qui se sont tenus
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
je ne prie pas pour la paix
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
la noblesse de la mort encore
j'ai entendu qu'une certaine princesse
deux rangées des choux
du plancher au plafond
allé avant nous
les voûtes du pont rouge
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
pharaoh, roi de la terre de l'Egypte

 



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