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math poem

fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
chi chiamerĂ  il vento
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
tutti si acquietano lungo il potomac
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
mi chiedono dove sono stato
prenda i miei bracelets
ora
sopra il fiume, sulla collina

 



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