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così perso
indietro, giri indietro
sotto la mia finestra in una via della città
del sole né stelle
e pane del breaketh non di più
dai prati ricchi con cereale
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
era un oysterman giovane alto
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
come esso

 



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