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child poem

truely
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
quando ero si č rotto a Londra
ci č un paese in pieno di vino
cara moglie
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
sono nell'amore con gli alti posti far-seeing
sonno, fratello grigio della morte
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
portimi la canzone morbida

 



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