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short poem

mille anni silenziosi fa
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
guardi indietro con gli occhi longing e sappia che seguirò
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
una foschia stava guidando giĂą
ha incurvato l'inondazione
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
la luce ritirata

 



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