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poem for pastors

un dieu
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
il y a mille années silencieuses
les drowses pâles de jour sur l'occidental trempent
doux et fort
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
je me suis tenu
ils me demandent où j'ai été
exister de cygne
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
elle boite avec stopper le pas douloureux

 



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