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poem for pastors

contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
parla non bene
i loro capelli bei
li ha fatti mai vedono un coccodrillo
è aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
la fragranza è venuto
all'interno di questa tomba umile un conqueror si trova
siete il mio compagno

 



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