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poem

città che non è una città
ho guardato sul cielo glorious
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
dai prati ricchi con cereale
hanno gettato una pietra, voi hanno gettato una pietra
siete il mio compagno
del sole né stelle
da me indegno e sconosciuto
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
i loro capelli bei
morbidamente piangendo
le ombre delle navi

 



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