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sad poem

diami la fame
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
esprimiamo le nostre passioni piů basse
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
sono il vento che esita
tre anni fa oggi
e con l'uccello di ronzio
abbiamo nessuno shame?

 



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