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autumn poem

quand j'étais a enfoncé à Londres
il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
laissez une subsistance de joie vous
je suis le vent qui hésite
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
s'est levé et l'ambre était le coucher du soleil sur le fleuve
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
souvent je pense à la belle ville
filles de temps

 



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