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free love poetry

sous la lune de moisson
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
dans la terre silencieuse
ce qui nous fera maintenant
simplicité
il y a une ville, builded par aucune main
peut-être ce n'est aucune matière que vous êtes morte
deux rangées des choux
les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
dans des nombres mournful
au-dessus du fleuve, sur la colline
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps

 



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