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lost love poem

la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
soyez dans moi comme modes éternels
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
basculé dans le berceau du profond
je vois tous les esprits humains

 



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