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graduation poem

quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
lascilo essere triste
dai nostri posti nascosti
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tč
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire

 



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