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poem and quote

il parle pas bien
il y a une heure du repos paisible
le maître des destins humains suis moi
quelques jours plus venteux
splendor doux
sous la lune de moisson
dans leurs regimentals loqueteux
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent

 



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