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acrostic poem

le soleil est vers le haut
il est allé
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
je me demande où vous vivez
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
qui appellera le vent
je remplis cette tasse
je vous chante
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
très bien, vous libéraux
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
les jours hypocrites
le maître des destins humains suis moi

 



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