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thanksgiving poetry

mi domando dove vivete
la signora, il vostro cuore si č girata verso polvere
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
siete chiari
quando il velare dagli occhi č alzato
uno sguardo č ma un raggio
le vecchie canzoni
malinconia, azzurro era
sono vecchio e cieco
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
passato inesorabile di thou

 



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