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christmas poems

aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
quelle chance spiteful vole des unawares
effrayé pas plus, je dis
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
exprimons nos passions plus basses
quand le voile des yeux est soulevé
un dieu

 



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