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thanksgiving poem

il y avait un strangeness sur vos lèvres
le pré rampait
je dédaigne mes amis davantage que vous
il y a une heure du repos paisible
si le tueur rouge pensent il massacre
hors de la mer de scintillement
affligez-vous pas pour l'invisible
tandis que je tenais l'écoute, discrètement sourde-muette
quelques jours plus venteux

 



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