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birthday poetry

seule
avec le rouge de sang de lèvres et le coeur de la pierre
là où je trouvez-vous
allés sont les trois, ces soeurs rares
son gris bascule toujours la tour au-dessus de la mer
à travers He va
hors de la fenêtre une mer des arbres verts
mon amour vrai de son oreiller a monté
il est venu me prendre par la main
pourquoi faites-vous toujours stand tremblant là

 



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