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poetry poem

au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
y a il quiconque lĂ 
hauts murs et énorme
je sais pas oĂą
mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
le mouvement de votre corps est comme la musique
basculé dans le berceau du profond
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
le plus triste de l'année
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai

 



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