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vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
à travers He va
sommeil, frère gris de la mort
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
dans leurs regimentals loqueteux
dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
ombres à ailes balayant près
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
ombres étendues le long de broadway

 



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