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christmas poems

roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
un mot de vol d'ici et là
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
il y a des gains pour toutes nos pertes
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
voyez que je me donne vous
là par la fenêtre dans la vieille maison
en septembre
le long des banques


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