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fate non sentirsi
figlie di tempo
dicami piů di meno o dicami di piů
che cosa io devono voi
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
glooms delle viv-quercie
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
cittŕ che non č una cittŕ
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
risiedo alla montagna della tabella

 



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