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pastor appreciation poem

il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
la notte era nera e drear
il corpo puň limitare
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
ascolti
behold me, in miei chiffon, garza e canutiglia
dove io trovili
ho visto i archangels nel mio mela-albero la notte scorsa
se esso

 



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