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concrete poetry

il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
nos moments plaisants volent
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
dans sa tente gardée
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
sous la barre du guerrier
ne tournez pas votre tête
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
pourquoi

 



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