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sorry poem

questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
veda che mi dò voi
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
sono vecchio e cieco
i loro capelli bei
nella terra silenziosa
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscuritĂ 
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
che cosa io devono voi
la neve bisbiglia circa me
se esso

 



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