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death poem

e con l'uccello di ronzio
è ci qualcuno là
chi ama la pioggia
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
amo non troppo bene la mia vita, ma
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
la notte era nera e drear
ed il mio nome è sincero
babylon -- dove vado sognare
non brucio incenso
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato

 



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