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thank you poem

scattando in su, cadendo
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
amilo in fine, o se non
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
città che non è una città
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano
in settembre
lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
chi è il corridore nei cieli
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato

 



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