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thank you poem

par de la large le sein faisant mal terre
qui aime la pluie
là où je trouvez-vous
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
j'ai jeté mon âme à l'air comme un vol de faucon
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
ne restez pas plus
il y avait un temps en anciennes années


 



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