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haiku poetry

l'aube était vert pomme
sous la lune de moisson
volonté vous miroitez sur la mer?
laissez-nous pitié ceux outre dont soyez meilleur que nous sont
treize ans toujours
hors de la fenętre une mer des arbres verts
les chansons antiques
jusqu'ŕ sa fenętre de chambre
hors de moi indigne et inconnu
mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
exprimons nos passions plus basses

 



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