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i miss you poem

mon âme est un champ labouré foncé
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
elle pourrait l'avoir su en ressort premier
la noblesse de la mort encore
ombres à ailes balayant près
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts
tous en baisse les années
à partir du sud à la coupure du jour
tristement parlant
ces coeurs ont été tissés des joies et des soins humains

 



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