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grandma poem

short et doux, et nous sommes arrivés ŕ la fin de lui
tous ces trésors qui se trouvent
le ciel
un dieu
la nuit est foncée, et les vents d'hiver
un regard est mais un rayon
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé
j'ai gagné la course

 



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