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african american poetry

perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
ci è uno che quella i amava una volta così tanto
i giorni hypocritic
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
volontĂ  glimmer sul mare?
figlie di tempo
non giri la vostra testa

 



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