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baby poem

une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
le régal royal a été fait
ce que je souhaite remarquer
tristement parlant
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
les poèts le disent
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
il y a mille années silencieuses
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie

 



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