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birthday poetry

c'était l'automne de l'année
pourquoi sont les choses qui n'ont aucune mort
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
j'ai fait un voeu par le passé, un seulement
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
l'amour a été chanté mille manières
a arqué l'inondation
plantons
à l'amoureux passionné
élever, comme vent a soufflé

 



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