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friend poem

oiseaux contre le vent d'avril
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
l'air est plein de l'aube et du ressort
je ne puis pas toujours sentir son greatness
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
je me demande oĂą vous vivez

 



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