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poem for pastors

y a il quiconque là
voyez, ils retournent
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
je vous attends
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
vous dites que vous m'aimez

 



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