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wedding poetry

le ciel
vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
elle a dit
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
quatre-vingts ans ont passé, et plus
dans pouvez
pas du monde large de totalité
babylon -- où je vais rêver
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
foncé-eyed
dans toutes les choses non parlées de
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être

 



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