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teacher poem

sonno, fratello grigio della morte
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
i loro capelli bei
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
un uccello ha cantato
stuff della luna

 



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