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poem for pastors

il mio figlio è guasto e sono ciechi andanti
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
in tutte le cose non parlate di
ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
perchè facciali sempre basamento là che rabbrividisce
corsa alto-sopportata
fra le montagne ho vagato
dal ponticello rude
li ha fatti mai vedono un coccodrillo
era un oysterman giovane alto
possono comunicare di amore in un cottage

 



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