Classic Poem

1

No, it's nothing. It is only the wood sighs,
And the night dream in the morning.
It was I who was looking for you. Does not rule out my hand:
I'd take your mouth and your smile.

2

My sisters smoke, whose urgent hand
The node shin ignited the decent dawn.

3

To hear the crack black frost cedars,
Your arms were sweet to me, and the inn and winter!
Softer encor to hear the edge of the green way
The song of the frog, and relive the source.

4

Ah! sleep one of these days full of doves,
Those hot days when you loved me among the graves.

5

Groves is where you spout peak morose,
Where did the flower aroma and fruit liqueur
Garden bee dies and fades to pink,
Such made you fall and as such my heart.

6

Dear companion of my past (alas, anything goes)
Paris was not able to cure you, but dirty you.
7

Princess and the dormant wood,
Lowering his eyes,
Said a thousand merry oaths
And one that does not lie.

8

Your gesture worsens and your are not tired,
O you whose eyes are full of bygone days.

9

The desire of the poet is something light:
Air fed butterfly flowers,
If you wrinkle his wing he soon died
And leaves your hand in a dark dust.

10

Floryse, how sweet it is to review in your eyes
This green evening of Aden which illuminated the heavens.