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funeral poem

il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
je les ai entendus la nuit
bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
j'ai gagné la course
dans la sphère
et ainsi elle va
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares
la nuit était noire et triste
à minuit
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
sous la barre du guerrier
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding

 



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