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thanksgiving poem

laissez-nous pitié ceux outre dont soyez meilleur que nous sont
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
doucement pleurant
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
vous entendez la pluie?
nuit mystérieuse
il raconte de bonnes vieilles périodes
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
cette année
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
l'obscurité

 



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