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sorry poem

c'était l'automne de l'année
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai
ceux-ci soient
je l'aime
le régal royal a été fait
le parfum est venu
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
nous avons aucune honte?
je suis le vent qui hésite
je sais ce que vous allez dire
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
ce que je souhaite remarquer
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness

 



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