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par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
roses et or
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
comme lui Ă  qui esprit dans la flamme du midi
frère, je suis le feu
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent Ă  moi
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
mi plaisirs et palais bien que nous puissions errer

 



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