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sad love poem

les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
pas du monde large de totalité
vous êtes mon compagnon
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
à l'aube, il a dit
par le rivage, par la mer
ville qui n'est pas une ville

 



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