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son poem

je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
ville qui n'est pas une ville
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé
j'aime mon heure de vent et de lumière
bonne femme
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
voyez, ils retournent
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
les bateaux se situent dans le compartiment
le bonbon avec la fougère et s'est levé

 



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