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child poem

forse è materia che avete morto
è allineare che dite che i dii sono più uso a voi che i fairies
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
cane dal percalle ed il gatto del calicò
sono una donna
come un uomo nudo io va
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
dal ponticello rude
desolato e solo
questi sono
uccelli contro il vento di aprile

 



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