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birthday poem

nous avons aucune honte?
une fois ce gazon mou
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
je suis le vent qui hésite
j'ai entendu qu'une certaine princesse
les jours endeared à chaque MUSE
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
maintenant que je me suis refroidi à vous
remplacez la vision du plaisir

 



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