This is an archive copy of wikilivres.ca as of 18 February 2017 (from the WikiTeam dump). The original site is closed.
This is an archive copy of wikilivres.ca as of 18 February 2017 (from the WikiTeam dump). The original site is closed.
Le champ de blé met sa cocarde
Coquelicot.
Voici l’été, le temps me tarde
De voir l’arc-en-ciel refleurir.
L’orage fuit, il va mourir,
Nous irons te cueillir bientôt,
Coquelicot.
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