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poem for dad

je vais ma manière complacently
contre la flamme verte de l'aubépine-arbre
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
vous a fait entendent parler jamais
mélancolie, bleu il était
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
laissez le bel unsaid de mots
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs

 



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