Some times i cant believe it .....i'm moving pass the feeling into the night of coarse

” It is a hole of green, in which a river sings,

Tangling madly with grass,
Silvery rags, on which the sun, from the proud mountain,
Shines: it is a little valley that foams with rays.

A young soldier, mouth open, head naked,
ASleeps. He is lying on the grass, under the mist,

Pale in his green bed on which the light rains.

Feets in gladioluses, he sleeps. Smiling as,
A sick child would smile, he is having a nap;
Nature, soothe him with warmth: he is cold.

The perfumes do not make his nostrils shiver,
He is sleeping within the sun his hand on his chest,

Tranquil, he has two red holes on his right side. nd the neck bathing in the fresh blue cress,