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death poetry

bien que repine d'amour, et frottement de raison
pour la vérité, pour l'amour
avant le saint en bronze solennel
étaient elle pas pour cette odeur singulière
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
je n'ai jamais su que la terre a eu tellement l'or
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
dossier une nuit de vol
un oiseau a chanté

 



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