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mom poem

deve andare indietro, ha detto
metŕ di piaceri e palazzi benchč possiamo vagare
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
un pensiero dolce solenne
mi sono levato in piedi
provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi
ma non posso ora leggerlo

 



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