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christmas poetry

limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
l'aria č come una farfalla
metŕ di piaceri e palazzi benchč possiamo vagare
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta cosě tanto oro
il padrone dei destini umani sono io
e pane del breaketh non di piů
ci era un momento durante gli anni precedenti
sono il vento che esita

 



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