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marriage poem

l'obscurité roule vers le haut
dans sa tente gardée
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
êtes vous éveillé?
avant le saint en bronze solennel
vous avez marche vue par le village
et mon nom est véridique
ne soyez pas faux
j'ai vu la première poire
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille

 



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