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death poem

sans aucun doute je me rappelle toujours
bougies se renversant en longueur dans des bidons de tomate
dans sa tente gardée
les chansons antiques
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
j'ai entendu le vent toute la journée
avec la joie et la merveille
comme des aigles sur la haute haute
nous cassons le verre dont le vin sacré
je vous chante
c'était l'automne de l'année

 



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