L'homme, Sans Vie Poem by Hebert Logerie
L'homme, Sans Vie
L'homme, sans vie,
Devient une chose
Ornée de jolies roses.
Quelle sale tragédie!
La femme, sans le souffle,
Dort à jamais,
Sous l'ombre des marais.
Oh! Que je m'étouffe!
L'être humain, sans l'air,
Devient rien.
Quelle vie de chien!
Quelle triste boisson amère!
Friday, August 19, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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8/29/2026 5:37:45 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
