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thank you poem

les voûtes du pont rouge
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
ne tournez pas votre tête
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
babylon -- où je vais rêver
une petite pêche dans le verger s'est développée
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
donnez-moi la faim
nous qui se sont tenus

 



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