User talk:Kagabor85

Une saint-valentin dans ses bras, où on glisse des mots tout bas, pour dire son amour, qui pour elle durera toujours ...

Elle qui a notre coeur, qui sèche nos pleurs, et en cette belle saint-valentin, cet amour ne fait qu'un ...

Certains attendent des bébés, et d'autres seulement à s'aimer, certains vont se mariés, et d'autres l'amour fêté ..

A Strange Poem

By the light of the moon, I walked. By the light of the moon, I searched for A poem. And I found what I was looking for. I was inspired by the beautiful moon. Here is the poem:

I wait by the light of the moon. I do not know for what or whom I wait. But I wait on the top of a dune. And while I wait, I eat bonbons. The wind murmurs in my ear, "He is coming with a fish." And it's true, for, truly, He carries a grilled Salmon. "My favorite!" I cry. "You are handsome, you are intelligent, a moment. I need to look at the speech I prepared." "A moment," he tells me. "Tell me, what day Is it to-day?"

Oh moon, false, false moon, You have not inspired me at all. This is a stupid poem, my horse is brown, And you told me it would be white. You are a stupid liar.



Une saint-valentin dans ses bras, où on glisse des mots tout bas, pour dire son amour, qui pour elle durera toujours ...

Elle qui a notre coeur, qui sèche nos pleurs, et en cette belle saint-valentin, cet amour ne fait qu'un ...

Certains attendent des bébés, et d'autres seulement à s'aimer, certains vont se mariés, et d'autres l'amour fêté ..

A Strange Poem

By the light of the moon, I walked. By the light of the moon, I searched for A poem. And I found what I was looking for. I was inspired by the beautiful moon. Here is the poem:

I wait by the light of the moon. I do not know for what or whom I wait. But I wait on the top of a dune. And while I wait, I eat bonbons. The wind murmurs in my ear, "He is coming with a fish." And it's true, for, truly, He carries a grilled Salmon. "My favorite!" I cry. "You are handsome, you are intelligent, a moment. I need to look at the speech I prepared." "A moment," he tells me. "Tell me, what day Is it to-day?"

Oh moon, false, false moon, You have not inspired me at all. This is a stupid poem, my horse is brown, And you told me it would be white. You are a stupid liar.