l am your father
Home to sound my trumpet strong
It’s pitch black out here,
My precious woman I love you
I can hardly breathe
Help Help Murder
Tinkling bells, tinkling song
Listen carefully at night
I don’t want to live like this anymore
Our lives are passing by
the coffin as a sign of mourning
5 in golden yellow
Father Father
Could he be a mute
You’ve learned nothing
The gods have eyes
the whole night through
You pathetic cripple
The sun is burning today
I notice the wedding charms
At first I thought it
Arsenic
Aren’t you afraid the gods
They’re like black claws
Surrounded by a howling pack
when his parents died
When my son is born
Birthday speeches
Spare you
nothing
Will you be my wife once more
will have to leave the dyeing house
you have nothing to fear
If he really called you daddy
Let’s find a secret place
of cotton in bright red
Subtitle Poetry 