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graduation poem

la noblesse de la mort encore
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré prčs
nous nous étendons
avec le coucher du soleil
écoutez
je me suis tenu pręt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
le long d'une rive
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
je ne brűle aucun encens
le jour est fait
vécu ŕ côté de la rive
descendu ŕ l'aube des collines windless
nous avons aucune honte?

 



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