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happy birthday poem

elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
je ne prie pas pour la paix
les voûtes du pont rouge
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
je secoue mes cheveux dans le vent du matin
c'est le bateau de la perle

 



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