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religious poem

splendor doux
regarder là-bas
une ombre grise mince sur le bord de la pensée
comme bougie blanche
le petit pitoyable, porté, visages de rire
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
l'obscurité roule vers le haut
tristes sont ils qui savent pas l'amour
tous en dedans et tous sans moi
j'aime voler pendant quelque temps loin
quelque part j'ai lu un conte étrange, vieux, rouillé

 



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