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thanksgiving poem

lascilo essere triste
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
amilo in fine, o se non
sentite la pioggia?
una penna di acciaio
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
dove io trovili
notte mysterious
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare
le tonalitŕ della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
nei loro regimentals ragged
le veritŕ terribili questi sono

 



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