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lost love poem

je ne prie pas pour la paix
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
comment j'aidez vers la droite le monde qui tourne mal
allé avant nous
voici se trouver une dame la plus belle
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire

 



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