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poem

i corridoi di marmo resounding lunghi
come livellare cade
la signora, il vostro cuore si è girata verso polvere
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
poco parco che attraverso
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
aumentato dai morti
nel vostro volo
gloom
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento

 



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