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poem for pastors

il y a une heure du repos paisible
qui appellera le vent
un mille derrière
un dieu
le roulement triste du tambour insonorisé a le battement
babylon -- où je vais rêver
une pensée gentiment solennelle
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
j'aime ma vie, mais pas trop bien
le régal royal a été fait
homme froid sévère

 



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