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child poem

sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
stuff della luna
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
la sua faccia giusta e liscia e fine
i loro capelli bei
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
conosco che cosa state andando dire

 



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