Parfum de l’absence
Qui enchaîne chaque instant
Vidé de son sens.
Maux que les mots ne savent
Dire, que le violon soupire.
Absence
03 Thursday Sep 2015
Posted in Poésie
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Hortus Closus
%d
I know it probably doesn’t translate well but I try
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Soupir du violon
là où l’âme enfin s’appuie,
posant une joue.
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belle journée et gros bisous ,BERNARD
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L’absence, une épreuve
Qui révèle un sentiment
Dans sa profondeur.
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Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
I DON’T TOTALLY UNDERSTAND….BUT I THINK I FEEL IT.
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profoundly true..
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