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epic poetry

sotto la mia finestra in una via della città
stuff della luna
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
quale desidero rilevare
il prato stava strisciando
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
quell'anno
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
morbido come la base nella terra
qui si trova una signora la più bella
tutti gli anni sfavorevoli

 



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