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type of poetry

roses et or
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
vous faites entendre
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
comme bougie blanche
je me tiens par temps gris froid
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
le ciel
au-dessus des dessus de toit emballez les ombres des nuages
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant lĂ 

 



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