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retirement poem

le maître des destins humains suis moi
il y avait de trois dans le pré par le ruisseau
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
vous vous rappelez
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
je tiens votre coeur
elle était une beauté en jours
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
pour puis en dehors
je ne brûle aucun encens
il aurait même sa plaisanterie
qui appellera le vent

 



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