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sad poem

soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
leurs beaux cheveux
je vous chante
orage
babylon -- où je vais rêver
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses
près d'un champ en détresse
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires

 



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