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birthday poem

quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
qui est le coureur dans les cieux
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
j'ai vu les nuages parmi les collines
je vois tous les esprits humains
je sais ce que vous allez dire
il y a un pays complètement de vin
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
elle a dit
il aurait même sa plaisanterie
une histoire très remarquable ceci est
éliminer, luttant vainly
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort

 



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