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sad poem

il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
osservi fuori sulle stelle, il mio amore
quale si conservare
sole e vento e battimento del mare
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
per venire cosě presto a questo ha immaginato l'oscuritŕ
splendor dolce
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
cosě perso

 



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