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math poem

comme lui Ă  qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
lĂ  par la fenĂŞtre dans la vieille maison
remplacez la vision du plaisir
Ă  minuit
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
basculé dans le berceau du profond
j'ai regardé sur le ciel glorieux
splendide et terrible votre amour
quand je vais de nouveau Ă  la terre

 



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