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haiku poem

quand les heures du jour sont numérotées
ils dans le rassemblement d'obscurité et demandent
il n'y avait jamais un bruit près du bois mais d'un
y a il quiconque là
nuit mystérieuse
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
les vieilles chansons
pensées par ma tête

 



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