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marriage poem

je ne brûle aucun encens
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
homme froid sévère
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
souffleur de verre de temps
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
il aurait même sa plaisanterie

 



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