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brother poem

il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
donc je ne puis pas
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
plantons
homme froid sévère
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
c'est le bateau de la perle
dans le port de New York
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
pourquoi
ce qui nous fera maintenant
tressé et tissé

 



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