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sad poetry

uno per uno, come va da un albero
siete bei e sbiaditi
ciň č l'arsenale
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
felicitŕ
un uccello ha cantato
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
prima del san bronze solenne
nelle mattine nube-grige
che cosa noi ora farŕ
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
lŕ dalla finestra nella vecchia casa

 



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