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famous poem

voici ne tomber aucune lumière
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
ce qui je vous doivent
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
avant le saint en bronze solennel
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
à certains les gros dieux
comme bougie blanche

 



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