Benoît Pioulard - Compound, Echo

Shut-Ins on Sunday See

Initial B.P.

Is in Its Clearest Form

With No Advantage

That Wounded Weathered

As Would a Weaver

Of Everything That Rhymes

A Shade of Celadon

An Image Apart from Ourselves

And Relent

So Etched in Memory

The Gilded Fear That Guides the Flow

Whose Palms Create

The Very Edge of Its Flame

Under the Break Arch

Где прошла ты

Komarovo

Седая ночь

Хищница

Прыгну со скалы

МАЛИНОВАЯ ЛАДА

Пошла жара

Дурак и молния

Пьяный туман

Алёшка

Можно я с тобой

Девочка, танцуй

Никто

Marmalade

Black Samurai