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nature poem

je me suis tenu prêt le tissu pour rideaux ouvert
les jours endeared à chaque MUSE
treize ans toujours
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
pensées par ma tête
ombres à ailes balayant près
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
pourquoi puis, la nécessité nous voient?


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