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type of poem

les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
de nos endroits cachés
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
le soleil est vers le haut
contre la flamme verte de l'aubépine-arbre
travails de la terre
j'ai moulé le monde
avec le coucher du soleil
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière

 



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