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death poetry

j'ai vu avec les yeux ouverts
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
ainsi tombé
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
dans leurs regimentals loqueteux
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
et mon nom est véridique
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
fleurs des bébés
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
bonheur
à l'aube, il a dit

 



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