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child poem

le ciel
je ne prie pas pour la paix
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
composé seul du loveliness
ils peuvent parler de l'amour dans une petite maison
je vois tous les esprits humains
voyez, ils retournent
vieux vin Ă  boire
Ă  l'aube, il a dit
un avec vous
éliminer, luttant vainly
pourrions nous mais savoir
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été

 



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