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black poetry

dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
ascolti il mare suonante
vecchio vino da bere
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
una foschia stava guidando giů
sono andato su e giů le vie
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
la signora, il vostro cuore si č girata verso polvere
riassunto su una notte di volo
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
lŕ dalla finestra nella vecchia casa

 



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