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child poetry

je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
sous la feuille sombre de laurier
substance de la lune
je ne prie pas pour la paix
un mille derričre
ville qui n'est pas une ville
pourquoi
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
vous faites entendre
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci ŕ moi

 



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