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sad death poem

dans les halls du sommeil vous avez erré près
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
il y a un pays complètement de vin
avec la joie et la merveille
je verrai une étoile ce soir
robuste, humble-abeille de somnoler
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
avec le coucher du soleil
il raconte de bonnes vieilles périodes
ce que je souhaite remarquer
la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière

 



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