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gothic poetry

l'aria è come una farfalla
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
le canzoni antiche
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
un pensiero dolce solenne
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
le navi stanno trovandosi nella baia
le stelle sono caduto da cielo

 



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