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sympathy poem

trčs bien, vous libéraux
j'ai hérité le désert parce que mon âme est assoiffée
bien que je sois peu en tant que toutes les petites choses
il n'y a aucune bande, toutefois observé et tendu
quand le vent fonctionne contre nous dans l'obscurité
truely
doucement maintenant la lumičre du jour
dans le port de New York

 



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