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sad poem

mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
je me tiens par temps gris froid
oiseaux contre le vent d'avril
jusqu'à sa fenêtre de chambre
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
vous faites entendre
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
de nos endroits cachés
êtes vous vivant?
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel

 



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