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poetry poem

nos moments plaisants volent
nous avons aucune honte?
ŕ travers He va
faible-envolée est la chanson
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
il n'y avait jamais un bruit prčs du bois mais d'un
cette cuvette argentée antique du mien
je la pense splendide juste
deux rangées des choux
jamais dans toute ma vie
j'aime les vieilles configurations melodious
travails de la terre

 



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