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romantic poem

i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
ci un'ora di riposo pacifico
citt che non una citt
travails della terra
conosco non dove
sentite la pioggia?
il sole in su
quell'anno
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
impaurito nient'altro, dico
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
vado il mio senso complacently
rinnovi la visione di piacere
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo

 



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