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birthday poem

pour vêtir la pensée ardente
vous avez marche vue par le village
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
ma mère me tortille des roses humides avec la rosée
je les ai offerts tout l'adieu
frère, je suis le feu
fait longtemps polir la lumière du soleil d'été
un poèt, ayant pris le frein outre de sa langue

 



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