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epic poetry

glooms delle viv-quercie
dai prati ricchi con cereale
sopra il fiume beckon a me
il mio dispiacere, quando č qui con me
composto del loveliness da solo
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
la penso splendido giusto
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
non brucio incenso
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento

 



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