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child poetry

o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
le maître des destins humains suis moi
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
une pensée gentiment solennelle
je sais pas oĂą
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent Ă  moi
souffleur de verre de temps
quand j'étais un garçon à l'université
il est allé
environ porté plainte au maître
nous avons aucune honte?
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc

 



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