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father poem

les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
plantons
la nuit passée la pleine lune a étendu un tissu de blanc
un, comme part d'un arbre
soyez patient, la vie, quand l'amour est Ă  la porte
et mon nom est véridique
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
la neige chuchote au sujet de moi
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre
ne restez pas plus

 



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