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sad death poem

contre la flamme verte de l'aubépine-arbre
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
clair de lune profond et tendre
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
en ce moment
je verrai une étoile ce soir
un oiseau a chanté
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes

 



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