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Article Communautés Concours Essai Multimédia Personnelles Poèmes Presse Prose _QUOTE Scénario Spécial | ||||||
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agonia ![]()
■ À l’ombre du Mont Saint-Hilaire ![]()
Romanian Spell-Checker ![]() Contact |
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| [Ce texte devrait être lu en english]
Only a snow flavor stays
On the hill with ice surprises. With icicles hungry for melting, With water drops thunderstruck by arrival, With red melted sugar hooks, With me tasting them… The snowflake, a liquid water drop wounded by cold Falls arrowed by its character In my palms. Ah, so much cold… Can one die in full Christmas? Just like that? Like a snowflake? Cold? You are the claw that turns The story from above With one question. You, are always far away, My gentleman… In cold You and the loneliness of the moments with tusks Grown in my soul like a tumor, Braking me in the flash of sobs, Flowing me in my veins, Telling me to believe Cold To believe In him, In Santa Clause? Like that, of old taste under the eyelids, Under the eyelids of the silent Christmas tree, To believe with or without you, With or without me? Cold? Through “maybe you`ll come”?
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