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sad poetry

son visage est juste et lisse et bon
je vous attends
le soleil est vers le haut
il est venu me prendre par la main
tranquillement, avec le reverance, dans la crainte
je vous chante
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
aimez-moi enfin, ou si vous pas
il y a un pays complčtement de vin
tous apaisent le long du potomac

 



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