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death poem

la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
ho detto
li prevedo
fiori dei bambini
non si addolori che finito
li ho detestati
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
tengo il vostro cuore
che cosa io devono voi
ciò è la nave della perla
qui si trova una signora la più bella
ma non posso ora leggerlo

 



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