My Brother Has Ways Of His Own Poem by Pierre Rausch

Isn't there a matter
Can always draw from my soul
From a restricted point of view
The visible in nowise
That in every man there is none
What there was in Javert
Would you know the way?
What there was in police
It will be easy for us to stay
All department requesting
Ordinarily, he is believed
Illuminated her profile and her attitude
She fancies that you feel super nature
Yes, that's right, call him father
That grandsire hadn't given
But a few months before, he would have so ardently
sacrificed
He hadn't hastened to the thicket in the morning
About in the mansard of roof
A light which was wandering
Where there isn't a pavilion
You shall enter here during this flight
He hadn't hastened to the thicket in the morning
Some persons, weren't curious
That he would have been put to torture
(in case of need)
At a nook of the forest in the underbrush
For I had seen this person emerge from the
brushwood