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thanksgiving poem

sous la barre du guerrier
les vérités terribles ceux-ci soient
elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
le soleil et vent et battement de mer
exister de cygne
tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte
il raconte de bonnes vieilles périodes
je ne brûle aucun encens

 



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