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family poem

dans une vieille chambre s'est doucement allumé
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
je vous chante
monde qui change sous ma main
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
ne vous affligez pas qu'elle plus de
je descends les chemins de jardin
le long d'une rive
j'ai vu les nuages parmi les collines
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus
souffleur de verre de temps
quand absence de sa taille de montagne
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes

 



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