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sad death poem

mon âme disparaît plaquée dans des choses magnifiques
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
en dessous de cette tombe modeste un conqueror se trouve
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
un počt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
c'est le bateau de la perle
j'ai eu une crainte dans ma vie
quand un contrat est fait pour la liberté
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala

 



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