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funeral poem

les nuances de la nuit tombaient rapidement
donc je ne puis pas
une brume entraînait une réduction
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
qui appellera le vent
là où je trouvez-vous
polit le dernier âge, le prochain avec espoir est vu
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
par de la large le sein faisant mal terre

 



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