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math poem

il dolce con il fern ed è aumentato
dal mare scintillante
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo
figlie di tempo
ma non posso ora leggerlo
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
forse è materia che avete morto
i poets dicono a
là dalla finestra nella vecchia casa
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
le stelle sono caduto da cielo
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
notte mysterious

 



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