sans titre

L'eau sécoule des fontaines
Le ciel étoilé luit
Et chantent les chrysanthèmes
Volent les bouquets jolis

Tout est calme sous la nuit
Pour un instant les Hommes s'aiment
Et chantent les chrysanthèmes
Sur le cercueil fleuri.

that's strange

but that's real poetry

thanks

I composed it in Roma, on the Spain place's stairs.

the place where you had forgotten your porte-monnaie....

The place where I thougt I had forgotten, that's worse. It was in my bag...

yes ^^
i really remember the face of Mrs Fumont, it was something to see, it was ten of the night, we were tired, and i will not say who was very strange to manage with... and Nani arrive saying i have forgotten my porte monnaire, place of Spain, no chance to find it! If it would have been on the stairs...