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mother poem

amo rubare per un po'via
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
non appenda corona
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
debole-è traversata la canzone
nobility della morte ancora
la notte era nera e drear
sotto la luna della raccolta
le vecchie canzoni
uno sguardo è ma un raggio
sia in me come gli atteggiamenti eternal

 



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