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thank you poem

mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
à l'amoureux passionné
les jours hypocrites
le mouvement de votre corps est comme la musique
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
mais alas, rêves justes
le ciel
donc je ne puis pas
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
voici se trouver une dame la plus belle

 



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