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fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
che cosa noi ora farà
dite che lo amate
mescolisi
ciò è l'arsenale
la festività reale è stata fatta
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
senza sosta
senza dubbio mi ricordo di ancora
sono andato su e giù le vie
ci era uno strangeness sui vostri labbri

 



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