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funeral poem

je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
pharaoh, roi de la terre de l'Egypte
dans ma main je me tiens
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien
oranges de plumaison nubian bleu-noires
il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
clair de lune profond et tendre
levé des morts
une brume entraînait une réduction

 



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