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thanksgiving poem

vecchio vino da bere
la nerezza
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
sto morendo
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
fra le montagne ho vagato
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato
poco cancello è stato raggiunto in fine
hanno avuti lui e la i ma venuto a contatto di
tutto l'mio amore per il mio dolce

 



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