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thanksgiving poetry

osservare di là
come livellare cade
ha incurvato l'inondazione
una foschia stava guidando giù
ed ancora hanno camminato sopra
aumentato dai morti
ancora tredici anni
perchè così triste mio bello?
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
risiedo alla montagna della tabella

 



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