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father poem

la lune se levante a caché les étoiles
je suis vieux et aveugle
en dessous de cette tombe modeste un conqueror se trouve
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
l'amour a été chanté mille manières
le soleil a fait un pas vers le bas de son trône d'or
le parfum est venu
fleur blanche de mousse, fleur rouge de flamme
dites-moi moins ou dites-moi davantage
tressé et tissé
une lueur d'or dans le gloom et le gris
j'ai moulé le monde
il aurait même sa plaisanterie

 



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