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sorry poem

le merriment sans fin et idiot des étoiles
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
il y avait un temps en anciennes années
beau
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
dans le port de New York
je me tiens par temps gris froid

 



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