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short funny poem

ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
glooms delle viv-quercie
dolce e forte
disprezzo i miei amici piů di voi
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
avete camminare visto attraverso il villaggio
sopra il fiume beckon a me
cosě caduto
qui cade nessuna luce
ora

 



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