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sad poetry

il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
c'est l'arsenal
un oiseau a chanté
il y a trois manières dont les hommes prennent
stand ici par mon côté
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve

 



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