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lyric poetry

per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
perchč facciali sempre basamento lŕ che rabbrividisce
parla non bene
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
la signora, il vostro cuore si č girata verso polvere
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
non ci č fuga dal fiume
i poets dicono a
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
stuff della luna
su e giů va

 



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