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memorial poem

je vous chante
dans votre vol
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
Ă  travers He va
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
et comment avez osé vous rêve de la réunion
je dois dire bonne nuit

 



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