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nature poem

souvent je pense Ă  la belle ville
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
j'au-dessus-avais préparé l'événement
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
j'ai vu la première poire
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
ce qui je vous doivent
un dieu
je suis vieux et aveugle

 



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