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happy birthday poem

truely
il parle pas bien
ce qui conserve
mélancolie, bleu il était
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
quand le voile des yeux est soulevé
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie
comme bougie blanche
est souvent il pas aussi?
puisque, si vous vous teniez prêt mon côté aujourd'hui
je suis le vent qui hésite
je me tiens par temps gris froid
la noblesse de la mort encore
dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage

 



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