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autumn poetry

substance de la lune
de la chanson et du ręve pour jamais allé
je vous ai détesté
je les ai entendus la nuit
le mystčre le plus foncé et le plus étrange
quand je vais de nouveau ŕ la terre
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
l'aube était vert pomme
les vieilles chansons
ceux-ci soient

 



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