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birthday poem

le parfum est venu
quatre-vingts ans ont pass, et plus
pour vtir la pense ardente
vers l'arrire, tournez vers l'arrire
elle tait une beaut en jours
quand la nuit drive le long des rues de la ville
au-dessus d'elles toutes, regardant vers le bas
l'amoureux passionn
sous ma fentre dans une rue de ville
il n'y a aucune vasion par le fleuve

 



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