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il y a mille années silencieuses
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
j'ai vu que vous hunched et tremblant sur les pierres
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
glooms des vivre-chênes

 



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