agonia francais v3 |
Agonia.Net | Règles | Mission | Contact | Inscris-toi | ||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
||
![]() |
![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() | |||||
Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
![]() |
|
|||||
![]() |
![]()
agonia ![]()
■ Petite valse gitane ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
- - -
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2004-03-16 | [Ce texte devrait être lu en english] |
She’d drink only skimmed milk and black coffee
And take a furtive glimpse in that Semi crystal looking glass Every time she came out of the kitchen and Into her cozy quiet study She didn’t mind those anti-smoking campaigns on TV Nor the salesmen ringing the doorbell Quite very early in the morning She’d never dear be rude Mind the noble (a bit artificial) style of her upbringing She was a pacifist and an ecologist Fighting for unspoiled nature And then a feminist in the annual V-Day march She was my she-part freaking out because of spoiled milk or Lost mail, Cuddling all the mice creeping through in the attic She was ineffable and unreal Just as that pale image of an innocent lass Haunting the mirror hours after she passed by it And ever so disgustingly in love…
|
||||||||
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
![]() |
|||
![]() | |||||||||
![]() |
La maison de la litérature | ![]() | |||||||
![]() |
La reproduction de tout text appartenant au portal sans notre permission est strictement interdite.
Copyright 1999-2003. Agonia.Net
E-mail | Politique de publication et confidetialité