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poem for pastors

un orage monte sur la marée
splendide et terrible votre amour
remplacez la vision du plaisir
je ne brûle aucun encens
c'est la chanson de la jeunesse
je les ai entendus la nuit
pourquoi
aimez-moi enfin, ou si vous pas
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil

 



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