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thanksgiving poetry

l'aube était vert pomme
je fais ma monture, mais personne ne sait
ce qui conserve
du soleil ni des étoiles
gaily par les champs nous avons dansé
doucement maintenant la lumière du jour
regardez avec les yeux longing et savez que je suivrai
voyez que je me donne vous
ont eu lui et I mais réuni
le plus triste de l'année

 



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