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poem for pastors

la notte era nera e drear
come io aiuti alla destra il mondo che sta andando male
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscuritĂ 
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
il padrone dei destini umani sono io
pensieri tramite la mia testa
un uccello ha cantato
così perso

 



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