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death poetry

parmi les montagnes j'ai erré
stand ici par mon côté
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
il aurait mĂŞme sa plaisanterie
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
lĂ  oĂą je trouvez-vous
chère épouse
les petites prières blanches
ce qui conserve
passé persistant de thou
le corps peut confiner
mélancolie, bleu il était

 



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