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autumn poem

les jours hypocrites
treize ans toujours
j'ai aimé une femme
ma mère m'a enseigné que chaque nuit
tous en baisse les années
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
je suis vieux et aveugle
y a il quiconque là
avec les yeux doux et bruns
je la pense splendide juste
la dame, votre coeur s'est tournée vers la poussière
qui appellera le vent
aucune proie ne suis moi des pensées faibles
donnez-moi

 



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