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short poem

les montagnes ils sont les gens silencieux
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
un mille derrière
un stylo d'acier
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains
remplacez la vision du plaisir
j'ai entendu qu'une certaine princesse
vous avez marche vue par le village
observer toute la journée la vague bleue se courber et se casser
de la chanson et du rêve pour jamais allé

 



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