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sad poem

donnez-moi la faim
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
elle a entendu les enfants jouer au soleil
la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
exprimons nos passions plus basses
mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
je suis le vent qui hésite
il y a trois ans d'aujourd'hui
et avec l'oiseau de ronflement
nous avons aucune honte?

 



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