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african american poetry

la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
dal profondo e l'oscurità
un cielo che non ha conosciuto mai il sole, la luna o le stelle
qui si trova una signora la più bella
quell'anno
alti pareti ed enorme
ha incurvato l'inondazione
debole-è traversata la canzone
fra le montagne ho vagato
era non per quell'odore singolare
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
buona donna

 



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