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sad poetry

je suis vieux et aveugle
Ă  travers He va
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares
bruits qui tâchent de déchirer
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
je vous ai détesté
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
homme froid sévère
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée

 



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