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thanksgiving poetry

l'alba era verde mela
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
quale si conservare
del sole né stelle
gaily attraverso i campi abbiamo ballato
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno
guardi indietro con gli occhi longing e sappia che seguirņ
veda che mi dņ voi
hanno avuti lui e la i ma venuto a contatto di
il pił triste dell'anno

 



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