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lost love poem

course haut-soutenue
gaily par les champs nous avons dansé
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
qui appellera le vent
ainsi tombé
vous dites que vous m'aimez
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
je l'ai vu une fois avant
dans le port de New York
laissez-moi être triste

 



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