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black poetry

dans la terre silencieuse
les chansons antiques
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
j'ai dit, j'ai fermé mon coeur
j'ai moulé le monde
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
doux comme lit dans la terre
voici ne tomber aucune lumière

 



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