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baby poem

pour vêtir la pensée ardente
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
l'obscurité
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
comme lui à qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
leurs beaux cheveux
vécu à côté de la rive
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
quand j'ai regardé dans vos yeux
je la pense splendide juste

 



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