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son poem

che cosa noi ora farŕ
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
in tutte le cose non parlate di
hanno gettato una pietra, voi hanno gettato una pietra
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno

 



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