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pumpkin poem

sono il vento che esita
chi č il corridore nei cieli
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
ascolti il mare suonante
non prego per pace
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
quando venite stasera
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla piů in anticipo
ciň č la canzone della gioventů
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare

 



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