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romantic poetry

questi sono
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
l'alba era verde mela
ho lanciato il mondo
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
deve andare indietro, ha detto
uno per uno, come va da un albero
sono fevered
se esso
aumentato dai morti

 



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