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wedding poem

le soleil est vers le haut
j'ai regardé sur le ciel glorieux
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
en septembre
souvent je pense à la belle ville
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
il y a mille années silencieuses
vous faites ne pas entendre
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
voyez l'expérimental

 



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