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mother daughter poem

je meurs
avec les yeux doux et bruns
vous vous rappelez
le jour est fait
il y a mille années silencieuses
vous avez marche vue par le village
une brume entraînait une réduction
seule
comme égaliser tombe
faites les garçons et les filles vont toujours
un avec vous
laissez-moi être triste
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
je descends les chemins de jardin

 



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