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poem for pastors

la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
come livellare cade
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
potremmo ma sapere
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
splendido e terribile il vostro amore
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine

 



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