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math poem

doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
le long d'une rive
le long des banques
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
il est venu me prendre par la main
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
certains des maux que vous avez traités
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
laissez-moi être triste
le merriment sans fin et idiot des étoiles
dans sa tente gardée

 



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