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life poem

la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscuritĂ 
esistere dello swan
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
le montagne sono gente silenziosa
ci situiamo
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
il mio dispiacere, quando è qui con me

 



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