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urdu poetry

pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité
je réside à la montagne de table
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
le ciel
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
le pré rampait
il raconte de bonnes vieilles périodes

 



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