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short poem

ha scoppiato il vino feroce
a che cosa una donna la paragonerŕ cara
alla mezzanotte
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
nei numeri mournful
li ho detestati
come le aquile sul high alto
mi domando dove vivete
in possa
gli archi del ponticello rosso

 



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