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sympathy poem

qui appellera le vent
une histoire très remarquable ceci est
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
nos moments plaisants volent
c'est l'arsenal
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
s'il
lĂ  par la fenĂŞtre dans la vieille maison
l'obscurité vole les formes de toutes les reines
j'ai aimé une femme
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
quand un contrat est fait pour la liberté

 



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