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gothic poetry

amilo in fine, o se non
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
disprezzo i miei amici più di voi
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
quel compagno sconosciuto è venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
come esso
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole

 



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