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autumn poem

del sole né stelle
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
stella-polvere e luce vaporous
chi ama la pioggia
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
osservi fuori sulle stelle, il mio amore
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
le montagne sono gente silenziosa
eliminazione, lottante vainly
diami la fame

 



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