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poetry for kid

la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
poco parco che attraverso
perchč sono le cose che non hanno morte
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
in pieno delle rotture
quindi non posso
travails della terra
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
ci era uno strangeness sui vostri labbri
sopra il fiume, sulla collina

 



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