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suicide poem

levé des morts
je ne brûle aucun encens
short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés à la fin de lui
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
élever, comme vent a soufflé
souvent je pense Ă  la belle ville
je vais ma manière complacently
c'est le bateau de la perle
soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
par le rivage, par la mer
c'est l'arsenal
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
pas du monde large de totalité

 



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