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famous poem

je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
dans votre vol
voyez, ils retournent
tous en baisse les années
dernier minuit
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
une pensée gentiment solennelle
effrayé pas plus, je dis
travails de la terre
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
un avec vous
fleurs des bébés

 



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