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agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
vivo dalla riva del fiume
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
come esso
una penna di acciaio
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
a volte mi domando se č realmente allineare
un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
faccialo rotare giů dal prato
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
dicami non

 



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