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angel poem

il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
travails de la terre
quand j'étais un garçon à l'université
dans pouvez
hors de la mer de scintillement
ce qui je vous doivent
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
donnez-moi la faim
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
observer toute la journée la vague bleue se courber et se casser
qui aime la pluie
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids

 



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