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missing you poem

je meurs
mélancolie, bleu il était
dans votre vol
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
j'ai entendu qu'une certaine princesse
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
dans des vos bras était le plaisir immobile
la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière
doux comme lit dans la terre

 



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