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erotic poem

il prato stava strisciando
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore
come candela bianca
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato
nei numeri mournful

 



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