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grandmother poem

il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
l'aube était vert pomme
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
je suis le vent qui hésite
frère, je suis le feu
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
très bien, vous libéraux
l'obscurité
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune

 



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