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friend poetry

quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
sopra loro tutte, osservando giů
che cosa noi ora farŕ
potremmo ma sapere
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
siete bei e sbiaditi
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
all'interno della mia mano tengo
in tutte le cose non parlate di
e cosě va
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly

 



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