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child poem

comme des aigles sur la haute haute
nos moments plaisants volent
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
basculé dans le berceau du profond
quand je vais de nouveau à la terre
ce compagnon étrange est venu sur brouiller des pieds
je sais pas où
le soleil est vers le haut
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
course haut-soutenue
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune

 



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