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il sole ha fatto un passo giù dal suo throne dorato
mi domando dove vivete
amo rubare per un po'via
ombre alate che scopano vicino
gli archi del ponticello rosso
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
ciò è la nave della perla
fra le montagne ho vagato
lucida l'ultima età, il seguente con speranza è visto
il più triste dell'anno
alti pareti ed enorme
tristemente parlando
buona donna
le canzoni antiche

 



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