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pastor appreciation poem

nous nous étendons
qui appellera le vent
la étoile-poussière et lumière vaporeuse
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
un ciel qui n'a jamais connu le soleil, la lune ou les étoiles

 



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