Classic Poem

Klop, klip, klop, klop, klip, klop.
Drip fingering her rhythmic sob
The basins of the basin where water still sleeping
A turbid water jet alone at night calm and quiet.
What silence! Looks like this sleeping world
On waves of velvet slips into infinity.
Up there, riddling Space billions of miles,
Pilgrims bored blue solitudes
Without regard to the martyrs who swarm on their sides,
Entangling their endless orbs indolent,
-Oasis of misery or dead worlds
The gold spheres circulate roaming choir.
My being, forget it! let go the golden reins
The contemplations eployant their development
Stanzas in my womb already floundering ...
What good bend in a rebel meter!
I want to know, the annoying vertigo
Lulls me into the folds of her moving abyss ...
I melt slowly ... I'm dead, I doubt anything ...
If I hear the water jet punctuate drip
The eternal silence of a rhythmic sob
Klop, klip, klop, klop, klip, klop ...