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fall poetry

parmi la fumée et le brouillard d'un après-midi de décembre
vers l'arrière, tournez vers l'arrière
quand vous venez ce soir
les voûtes du pont rouge
elle a éclaté le vin féroce
j'ai aimé une femme
je n'ai jamais su que la terre a eu tellement l'or
avec les yeux doux et bruns

 



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