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brother poem

laissez-moi ĂŞtre triste
je me suis tenu
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
tressé et tissé
ceux sur le supérieur indiquent qu'elles vous connaissent, la terre -- elles sont des menteurs
leurs beaux cheveux
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
du soleil ni des étoiles
lĂ  oĂą je trouvez-vous
a arqué l'inondation
environ porté plainte au maître
roses et or

 



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