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lost love poem

soudainement, hors des manières foncées et feuillues
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
levé des morts
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
regarder là-bas
je suis vieux et aveugle
les chansons antiques
là par la fenêtre dans la vieille maison
j'ai vu les étoiles les plus fières
le maître des destins humains suis moi
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant

 



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