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african american poetry

tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure
non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
era una bellezza nei giorni
ho lanciato il mondo
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
ha scoppiato il vino feroce

 



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