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math poem

pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
andato prima di noi
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
rose ed oro

 



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