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epic poetry

prima del san bronze solenne
il sole č in su
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
l'alba era verde mela
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
conosco che cosa state andando dire
il padrone dei destini umani sono io
perchč cosě triste mio bello?
i nostri momenti piacevoli volano

 



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