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happy birthday poem

la terre garde aller de vibration
exister de cygne
vieux vin à boire
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
écoutez
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
elle a entendu les enfants jouer au soleil
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
ceux sur le supérieur indiquent qu'elles vous connaissent, la terre -- elles sont des menteurs

 



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