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missing you poem

la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
composé seul du loveliness
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
élever, comme vent a soufflé
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
oiseaux contre le vent d'avril
pas du monde large de totalité
par le pont grossier
les vieilles chansons
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
truely

 



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