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la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
una vita sull'onda dell'oceano
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
dal pavimento al soffitto
questi sono
impaurito nient'altro, dico
quale desidero rilevare
due file dei cavoli
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano

 



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