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retirement poem

de nos endroits cachés
simplement parlant
ne restez pas plus
pour vêtir la pensée ardente
la noblesse de la mort encore
au-dessus du fleuve ils montrent à moi
trois jours je les ai entendus s'affliger quand je m'étends complètement
ombres à ailes balayant près
hors du profond et de l'obscurité
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
quand je suis retourné au coucher du soleil
je me demande parfois s'il est vraiment vrai
babylon -- où je vais rêver
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer

 



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