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best love poem

oscillato nella culla del profondo
desolato e solo
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
il prato stava strisciando
come esso
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
quel compagno sconosciuto č venuto sul mescolareare i piedi
ora
qui si trova una signora la piů bella
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro

 



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