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poem and quote

mi domando dove vivete
se lo slayer rosso pensa slays
amilo in fine, o se non
il vecchio ovest, il vecchio tempo
ha detto
aumentato dai morti
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
non ci è fuga dal fiume
se fossi molto sicuro
nel vostro volo
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
morbidamente piangendo
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro

 



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