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poem

un dieu
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là
tous en baisse les années
dans la sphère
le vieil ouest, le vieux temps
pour moi étais un conseiller décharné et grave
roulez-moi vers le bas par le pré
du soleil ni des étoiles

 



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