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father poem

vous pensez, mon garçon, quand je mets mes bras autour de vous
doux comme lit dans la terre
à ce qui une femme la comparera aimée
serene d'après-midi et lumineux verts
jamais dans toute ma vie
pour la vérité, pour l'amour
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
je me demande où vous vivez
le long d'une rive

 



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