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happy birthday poem

ad alcuno i dii grassi
dai prati ricchi con cereale
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
uomo freddo severo
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
il piů triste dell'anno
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
noi che si sono levati in piedi
sto morendo

 



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