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sad love poem

glooms delle viv-quercie
non brucio incenso
ascolti il mare suonante
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
era un oysterman giovane alto
ho vinto la corsa
è venuto prenderlo dalla mano
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo

 



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