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famous poem

pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
je dois dire bonne nuit
splendor doux
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
il y a une heure du repos paisible
je suis une femme
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
peut-ętre
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
enveloppez la terre par temps nuageux

 



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