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poetry poem

il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
poco parco che attraverso
ci č una cittŕ, builded da nessuna mano
fra le montagne ho vagato
i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
il piů triste dell'anno
questi cuori sono stati tessuti delle gioie umane e cure
con gli occhi meek e marroni

 



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