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spanish poem

je vais ma maničre complacently
dans votre vol
tressé et tissé
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
pour vętir la pensée ardente
fait longtemps polir la lumičre du soleil d'été
dans le port de New York
les étoiles sont tombées du ciel
pourrions nous mais savoir
n'accrochez aucune guirlande

 



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