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poems

qui aime la pluie
si j'étais trčs sűr
et ils marchaient toujours dessus
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
soyez dans moi comme modes éternels
quatre-vingts ans ont passé, et plus
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
comme un homme nu je vont
le ciel
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez ŕ moi, appel ŕ moi
aimez-moi enfin, ou si vous pas
jusqu'ŕ sa fenętre de chambre
avec la joie et la merveille
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé

 



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