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christmas poetry

les jours mélancoliques sont venus
monde qui change sous ma main
à partir du sud à la coupure du jour
la terre garde aller de vibration
pour ces bras blancs au sujet de mon cou
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
orage
ce que je souhaite remarquer
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs

 



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