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sad poem

nella terra silenziosa
fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
la notte era nera e drear
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
tristemente parlando
per allora senza
ancora tredici anni
mi sono levato in piedi
gli archi del ponticello rosso
cosě caduto
quando libertŕ dalla sua altezza della montagna
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi

 



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