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brother poem

perchè così triste mio bello?
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
i poets dicono a
pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
all'alba, ha detto
i giorni endeared ad ogni MUSE
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
le tonalità della notte stavano cadendo velocemente

 



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