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thanksgiving poem

le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
comme bougie blanche
gaily par les champs nous avons dansé
l'aube était vert pomme
orage
je descends les chemins de jardin
j'ai vu qu'un dieu vous doutent de lui?
je l'aime
frère, je suis le feu
chère épouse

 



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