Sous le pont Mirabeau coule la SeineEt nos amoursFaut-il qu’il m’en souvienneLa joie venait...
Month: February 2024
J’ai cueilli ce brin de bruyèreL’automne est morte souviens-t’enNous ne nous verrons plus sur...
You think the ridge hills flowing, breakingwith ups and downs will, though,building constancy into...
This is just a place:we go around, distanced,yearly in a star’s atmosphere, turningdaily into...
When I was young the silkof my mindhard as a peony headunfurledand wind bloomed...
I know if I find you I will have to leave the earthand go...
Fall’s leaves are redder thanspring’s flowers, have no pollen,and also sometimes fly, as the...
The reeds giveway to the wind and givethe wind away
I don’t know somehow it seems sufficientto see and hear whatever coming and going...
The reason to be autonomous is to stand there,a cleared instrument, ready to act,...