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lyric poem

polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
doux comme lit dans la terre
élever, comme vent a soufflé
à partir des prés riches avec du maïs
n'accrochez aucune guirlande
filles de temps
l'air est comme un papillon
le soleil est vers le haut

 



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