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writing poetry

ho lanciato il mondo
l'alba era verde mela
semplicemente parlando
amico, di cui il sorriso č venuto essere
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
amilo in fine, o se non
andato prima di noi
esprimiamo le nostre passioni piů basse
i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano
chi chiamerŕ il vento
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
quando il velare dagli occhi č alzato

 



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