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mother daughter poem

tristement parlant
chantez-encore à la chanson vous chanté
behold je, en mon chiffon, gaze et tresse
il est allé
vieux vin à boire
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
tout mon amour pour mon bonbon
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts

 



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