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def poetry

il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
je réside à la montagne de table
il est vrai que vous disiez que les dieux sont plus d'utilisation à vous que des fées
donc je ne puis pas
élever, comme vent a soufflé
j'ai vu la première poire
il y a une heure du repos paisible

 



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