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autumn poetry

quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscuritŕ
perchč cosě triste mio bello?
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
li prevedo
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
i giorni malinconici sono venuto
calma come che seconda estate
ad alcuno i dii grassi
che cosa era esso i motori detti
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
travails della terra
scattando in su, cadendo

 



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