Lucia - poeziile altor autori

Poésie, où es-tu?
J’écoute, j‘essaie de voir
et de t’entendre,
　　　　　　　j’attends avec espoir

The struggle between the visceral and the real
I
Vanquished outside,
the Middle Age has retired in the

The struggle between the visceral and the real
I
Vanquished outside,
the Middle Age has retired in the

The entering in the spring works
I
Heart bigger than the body,
jumping from all over suddenly

I am

I am sick. It hurts me a wound
stepped in hoofs by running horses.

Dedicated to Georg Friedrich Wilhelm Hegel

The slot-man has remote origins.
He comes from outside:

In a black egg I let myself warmed up
of the waiting of flying living in me,
it stays one next to the other, un-detached,
the self next to self.

I

She told me then, seeing the fixed things
of my making.

The option to real

I live in the name of leaves, I have nervures,
I change green on yellow and

y
The aphasia
I stay between two idols and I cannot choose
none of them, I stay