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birthday poem

ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
j'ai gagné la course
robuste, humble-abeille de somnoler
la fille, art de thou viennent pour mourir
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
il y a un pays complètement de vin
comme lui Ă  qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
le jour est fait
dans ma main je me tiens
nous avons aucune honte?

 



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