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grandmother poem

n'accrochez aucune guirlande
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent Ă  moi
sommeil gentiment dans vos tombes humbles
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
quand je vais de nouveau Ă  la terre
un stylo d'acier
c'est l'arsenal
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
je remplis cette tasse
je tiens votre coeur

 



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