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child poem

ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
non eravamo molti
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
ho visto che hunched e rabbrividendo sulle pietre
se esso
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
siete svegli?
scattando in su, cadendo
i drowses pallidi di giorno sull'occidentale bagnano
ho avuto un sogno e mi sono svegliato con esso

 



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