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poem for dad

mais alas, rĂŞves justes
travails de la terre
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
vous vous rappelez
il y a bien longtemps, dans le jeune clair de lune
elle a un espace libre, loveliness vent-abrité
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
le poing serré simple soulevé et préparent
j'ai su le silence des étoiles et de la mer

 



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