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child poetry

ma douleur, quand elle est ici avec moi
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
l'enfant qui a jeté la feuille après feuille
voyez, ils retournent
simplicité
laissez-nous pitié ceux outre dont soyez meilleur que nous sont
pour venir tellement bientôt à ceci a imaginé l'obscurité

 



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