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grandmother poem

il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
dernier minuit
nous qui se sont tenus
treize ans toujours
indéfiniment
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
et ainsi elle va
robuste, humble-abeille de somnoler
je suis las d'ĂŞtre amer et las d'ĂŞtre sage
une brume entraînait une réduction

 



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