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pastor appreciation poem

uccelli contro il vento di aprile
sto cantando voi
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
non sia arrabbiato con me
fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
quando venite stasera
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
del sole né stelle
ciò è l'arsenale

 



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