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lyric poem

quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
si j'étais très sûr
sous un arbre de propagation de châtaigne
un avec vous
je n'ai jamais su que la terre a eu tellement l'or
pour pouvoir voir chaque côté de chaque question
puisque j'ai senti le sens de la mort
je remplis cette tasse
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares

 



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