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family poem

splendide et terrible votre amour
sous la lune de moisson
le jour est fait
la noblesse de la mort encore
comment comme les étoiles sont ces le blanc, les visages inconnus
voici ne tomber aucune lumière
dépassement par les murs blottis et laids
beaux, tragical visages
doux et fort
voyez, ils retournent
son visage est juste et lisse et bon

 



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