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fall poem

vado il mio senso complacently
mistero più scuro e più sconosciuto
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
nobility della morte ancora
ha detto
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
l'alba era verde mela
veda, rinviano
ha scoppiato il vino feroce

 



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