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c'était l'automne de l'année
j'ai vu les archangels dans mon pomme-arbre la nuit passée
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
les jours mélancoliques sont venus
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue
la foudre a clignoté, et s'est soulevée
si j'étais très sûr
je vous attends
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
le régal royal a été fait
la agonie d'avoir trop de puissance
j'ai gagné la course

 



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