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mom poem

nos moments plaisants volent
comment sauvage, comment sorcière-comme étrange qui la vie devrait être
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
il n'y a aucune évasion par le fleuve
pourrions nous mais savoir
exprimons nos passions plus basses
ces yeux noirs i une fois ainsi félicité
il y a un pays complètement de vin

 



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