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grandma poem

je remplis cette tasse
quand j'étais un garçon à l'université
si perdu
je suis le vent qui hésite
il y a une heure du repos paisible
hors de la mer de scintillement
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
ainsi tombé
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
dites-moi pas
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré

 



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