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teen poem

ainsi tombé
dans l'obscurité et la paix de mon lit final
quand les mer-vents ont percé nos solitudes
o juste et stately bonne, dont les yeux
mais je ne puis pas vous lire maintenant
substance de la lune
dossier une nuit de vol
je ne puis pas vous dire maintenant
qui appellera le vent
le long des banques
les longs couloirs de marbre resounding
dans le port de New York

 



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