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urdu poetry

le pré rampait
treize ans toujours
je sais ce que vous allez dire
peu de porte a été atteinte enfin
quand je vais de nouveau Ă  la terre
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
effrayé pas plus, je dis
est souvent il pas aussi?
un, comme part d'un arbre
du plancher au plafond

 



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