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religious poem

le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singulière
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
dans leurs regimentals loqueteux
avant le saint en bronze solennel
j'ai dit
bonheur
nous avons aucune honte?
jamais dans toute ma vie

 



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