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lyric poetry

ho visto la prima pera
non sia arrabbiato con me
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
amico, di cui il sorriso č venuto essere
la sua faccia č giusta e liscia e fine

 



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