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mother poem

un, comme part d'un arbre
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
les jours endeared Ă  chaque MUSE
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singulière
Ă  travers He va
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
elle a dit
dans pouvez
très bien, vous libéraux
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
écoutez
gloom
pour puis en dehors
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer

 



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