Mon GaroU

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A farewell
Is the long cry of clocks
And the trumpets of Waterloo
To say to all those who question
That love has fallen into the water
On a sad ship
Who has eaten away, you and me
The passengers stranded
And I know the two who drown.

A farewell
To the trees of wet september
In memory of their sun
In the soft words, tender words
What I heard you tell me
In favor of a sunken road
Or a burning candle
Farewell to what was the two of us
In the passion of the verb to love

A farewell
Is the white wolf in the mountains
And the hunters in the valley
The sun who’s with us
Is like a moon, foolish to cry
Farewell is like the tides
Who will bury all.

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