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non appenda corona
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
il più triste dell'anno
ombre alate che scopano vicino
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato
come livellare cade
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
basamento qui dal mio lato
ho lanciato il mondo
non ci è fuga dal fiume

 



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