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poem for dad

la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
c'était l'automne de l'année
donnez-moi
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
dans le port de New York
la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
enveloppez la terre par temps nuageux
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux

 



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