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teacher poem

fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
une fois ce gazon mou
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
seule
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
babylon -- où je vais rêver
splendide et terrible votre amour
peu de parc que je traverse
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
et pain de breaketh pas plus
pharaoh, roi de la terre de l'Egypte
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
homme froid sévère

 



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