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poetry for kid

perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
il fratello, sono fuoco
era una bellezza nei giorni
siete chiari
cane dal percalle ed il gatto del calicň
il corpo puň limitare
quelli sul superiore dicono che li conoscono, terra -- sono liars
quale si conservare
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
chi ama la pioggia

 



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