Air du poète
At the nations of Papua
I caressed the Papua…
The grace which I hope you
It’s not to be Papuan.
The Bronze Statue
The frog
Of the barrel game
Bored, the evening, under the arbor…
She is in enough!
Of being the statue
Which screams in silence a great word : The Word!
She loved better being with the others
Who made bubbles of music
With the soap of the moon
With the edge of golden washhouse
That we see, there, brilliant among the branches…
It throw him heat of the day
A pasture of pistoles
Which crosses it without him enjoy
And is going to ring
In the cabinets
Of its pedestal numbered?
And the evening, the insects lie down
In its edge…
Though she is tied to the grandstand,
Open to the love, open the forceps
Towards the moon which sigh, of turning of sense,
From the indigestion thermogenic wadding…
At the far an wisp seek something
That it lost in the reeds
And wake up at the bottom of the closed pond
The black hydrophilic in her castle of water…
My sad childhood, to the lookout for charms,
The evening I will see you stargaze,
Invite for you to listen, on the edge of your teardrops,
Gobbler of time, covers and blames,
Like me, poet, in my orchard…
Song of the Rat
Abi Abirounère
Who which you aren’t don?
A white miners
A pre
A pretty goulifon
An eye
An eye to his goulifon
A pre
A pretty goulifon
An eye
_ _ _ _Spoken.
Tilibeet, my ti fifi!
Song of the Cat
He is a small beast
Ti Li small child
Tirelan
The bit Tinan faon
It’s a ti white-white
A little potasson
It’s my piglet
It’s my pun
My little potasson.
He leap on the window
And rumple of the muzzle
Because he see on the ridge
Cut out the birds
Tirelo
The little doesn’t need it
It’s un ti bloblo
A little Potaçao
It’s my piglet
It’s my swine
My little potash.
Lanterne
The organ of Barbarism et the draw of lottery
Sleeping in the night of cars.
It doesn’t hear more thunder, filed like the Death,
Batiplantes – garden of Gnolles.
Air of Julienne
The apaches settled
On camping fire of panouilles.
The daggers were swinging
With their weight of socket.
Julienne found worse
That I seek the happiness
And in a field of trips
Checked the Indicator.
The furry brassieres
Support the swings
And the navels wormy
Looked like the strainers.
American Frog
The American frog
Watch me above
Their glasses of fustian.
Their eyes are grogs massus
Deprived of pretty.
I think to Casadesus
Who doesn’t play music
On this scene of love
On which the nostalgic perfume
Sort of a box the armour
Argus of table you guard
The soul of toad Vanglor
O stock which watch me
With your glasses of gold.
Pebbles
Flower of three phrases, errors, Vespasian
Et the women, et these worms apaisants
Who pick the pleasure on his old shrub
And who take a worm for a boa.
Enough suffered. That the love is the glamorous rose
Who faces to the palm tree. That the wall is close.
Touch me. But don’t risk a little more who touch me.
Kiss me.
_ _ _ _ Oh, like he make darkness in his mouth…
Madrigal
In my heart in your presence
Bloom of salt herrings.
My sanity, it’s your absence,
And when you appear, I leave.
Dance
The escarole salads
Danse in pannier dress
On the blond and soft moon
Which rise for dinner.
A lovers couple isolates
Gracious liken an oiler
And go under a mitten
See push the croquignoles.
The escarole salads
Tomorrow they will dance
In their funeral urn
On the lunar faces
Which eat a eat of minnow
And will do on their frisians
The escalation of talks
And without spittles…
Although, the earth growls
Et in the blond woman
Et in the man who lies,
The pass away, lamp of bones,
Consume the oil which vanish…
Spleen
In a old square of side of the sea
Of bad time put his sit up
On a sad bench at eyes of tear
It’s of a blond
Red and beautiful
That I bored
In this cabaret of Nothing
That is our life.
Kiosk
In vain the sea does travel
At the bottom of the horizon kisses your wise feet.
_ _ You withdraw them
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Always on time.
You shut up, I say nothing,
We don’t think more about it, maybe.
But the fireflies from close by close
Fire their light of pocket
Very strongly pour make light
On your calm eyes their tears
Which je was forced to drink someday.
The sea is very dry enough.
A blue and blond jellyfish
Which want to instruct getting sad
Cross the stages denses by the sea,
Right and clear like an elevator,
And remove the shade of the lamp to flower of water
For see you pretending on the sand
With your umbrella, in raining
The three cases of equality of triangles.
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