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spanish poem

dites-moi
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
course haut-soutenue
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
le parfum est venu
doux et fort
le corps peut confiner
il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
ne soyez pas fâché avec moi
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre

 



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