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life poem

semplicitŕ
della l'oscuritŕ e pace nel mia base finale
perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
il prato stava strisciando
lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
chi chiamerŕ il vento
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane
lasci il unsaid bello di parole

 



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