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poem for dad

le maître des destins humains suis moi
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
je sais ce que vous allez dire
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
passé persistant de thou

 



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