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fall poem

poco parco che attraverso
morbidamente piangendo
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
come livellare cade
fra le montagne ho vagato
ma non posso ora leggerlo
una parola di volo di qui e là
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
diami la fame
ma alas, sogni giusti
i giorni hypocritic

 



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