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nature poem

mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
je me demande où vous vivez
l'air est comme un papillon
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
indéfiniment
hors de moi indigne et inconnu
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
le ciel
tristement parlant
donc je ne puis pas
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville

 



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