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halloween poem

les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
beau
exprimons nos passions plus basses
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses
le soleil est vers le haut
j'ai aimé une femme
puisque, si vous vous teniez prêt mon côté aujourd'hui

 



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