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poem for pastors

les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
la terre garde aller de vibration
un orage monte sur la marée
course haut-soutenue
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
il est venu me prendre par la main
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi

 



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