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gothic poetry

lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
gli archi del ponticello rosso
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
amo rubare per un po'via
il più triste dell'anno
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
fate non sentirsi

 



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