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daughter poem

travails de la terre
descendu à l'aube des collines windless
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
voyez que je me donne vous
peut-être
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
quand, plein de l'amour chaud et désireux
laissez-moi se déplacer lentement par la rue

 



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