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poetry poem

la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
dal sud alla rottura del giorno
alcuni dei hurts che avete curato
il più triste dell'anno
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
il merriment infinito e insensato delle stelle
in un vecchio alloggiamento si è illuminato morbidamente
ascolti

 



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