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gli archi del ponticello rosso
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
fate sentirsi
nobility della morte ancora
città che non è una città
siete bei e sbiaditi
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
e mentre abbiamo camminato l'erba debolmente è stata mescolata
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
era molte e molto un anno fa
molto bene, voi liberali
dite che lo amate
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno

 



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