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religious poem

i giorni endeared ad ogni MUSE
quando ero si è rotto a Londra
il cielo
non sia falso
che probabilitĂ  spiteful ruba i unawares
non posso ora dirvi
lascili pity coloro di che sia migliore fuori che noi sono
corsa alto-sopportata
vado il mio senso complacently
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me

 



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