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friendship poem

les jours mélancoliques sont venus
gros mâles noirs dans une salle de vin-baril
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
je suis vieux et aveugle
les voûtes du pont rouge
ce qui conserve
dans la terre silencieuse
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
levé des morts
juste en tant que mes doigts sur ces clefs
peu de porte a été atteinte enfin

 



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