Ma Boheme (Fantasie)
Je m'en allais les poings dans mes poches crevees
as like
things and things just now bright adorned
or when
bright his living word the silent singing
to move
divine sea bitter ugly sad basest decease
in snow
petals and feet's sand out flying beneath
or back
golden and beasts huge his lion’s horizon
by moon
summer and golden wave the silent ecstasy
as snow
softly and bitter long was wind’s whisper
to your
spirit was nature seas too tender morning
in worn hurrah
the gibbet like the wolves forests
