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friend poem

se esso
il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
era molte e molto un anno fa
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscuritŕ
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
corsa alto-sopportata
conosco non dove
il cielo
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente č stata mescolata
sono vecchio e cieco

 



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