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romantic love poem

il y a une heure du repos paisible
les jours endeared Ă  chaque MUSE
bonheur
la noblesse de la mort encore
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
en septembre
l'aube était vert pomme
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
voyez l'expérimental
j'ai vu que vous hunched et tremblant sur les pierres

 



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