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math poem

li ho sentiti nella notte
fate non sentirsi
sotto la luna della raccolta
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
le veritĂ  terribili questi sono
di ci non era mai un suono al lato il legno ma uno
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
dai prati ricchi con cereale

 



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