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mom poem

quando ero si è rotto a Londra
il mio dispiacere, quando è qui con me
poco parco che attraverso
burly, humble-ape fare un pisolino
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
nelle mattine nube-grige
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
è andato
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscurità
con il tramonto
ancora il suo gray oscilla la torretta sopra il mare

 



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