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sad poem

sotto la luna della raccolta
ci č un'ora di riposo pacifico
il cielo
dove io trovili
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
benchč sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
quel compagno sconosciuto č venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
buona donna

 



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