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angel poem

i poets dicono a
ad alcuno i dii grassi
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si č sviluppata
l'amore č stato cantato mille sensi
osservare di lŕ
le veritŕ terribili questi sono
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
ascolti il mare suonante
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada

 



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