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Le Coquelicot
poetry [ ]
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by Robert Desnos [Robert_Desnos ]
2009-03-16
| [This text should be read in francais] |
Submited by Guy Rancourt
Le champ de blé met sa cocarde
Coquelicot.
Voici l’été, le temps me tarde
De voir l’arc-en-ciel refleurir.
L’orage fuit, il va mourir,
Nous irons te cueillir bientôt,
Coquelicot.
(Robert Desnos, Chantefleurs, 1944-1945)
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