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acrostic poem

par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
pour la vérité, pour l'amour
exprimons nos passions plus basses
j'étais une déesse avant que le marbre m'ait trouvé
en dessous de cette tombe modeste un conqueror se trouve
pourrions nous mais savoir
là par la fenêtre dans la vieille maison
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
je vais ma manière complacently
course haut-soutenue
regarder là-bas
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire

 



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