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autumn poem

bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement
travails de la terre
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
dans votre vol
je ne prie pas pour la paix
Ă  minuit
l'odeur du s'est levée si faux, les épines si vraies
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
dernier minuit

 



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