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memorial poem

rose ed oro
amo le vecchie disposizioni melodious
forse è materia che avete morto
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
truely
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
le preghiere bianche piccole
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
mi domando dove vivete
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi

 



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