Ghost Unseen Poems

The eyes empty, I stare persistently,
At the white and continuously high,
Toned pitch whistle of the dull electric kettle.
Such a blind and sad sigh.
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Blessed be the superb Adam or the first fool,
Who in his shameful burden and vain sins,
Beknew the most imperviously hidden secret,
The unbent discernment of right and wrong.
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Naquirent encore ce matin des rêves étoilés,
Tes doigts longs et suaves cachés contre les miens,
Frais vertiges caressants aux arômes épicés,
Dérobant mon cœur au vent du bonheur lointain.
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A pale and ethereal dream sowing shimmer,
Do gleam and shine from your dark hair again.
Black silky strands woven altogether,
They braid a hazy augury in mane.
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Que la lune est si calme,
Quand le vent s’adoucit.
Que la lune est si blême,
Qu’Orion en pâlit.
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