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baby poem

pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant lĂ 
mélancolie, bleu il était
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
je descends les chemins de jardin
effrayé pas plus, je dis
chère épouse
le jour est fait
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
glooms des vivre-chĂŞnes
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
dans sa tente gardée
les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment

 



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