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free love poetry

la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
travails della terra
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
chi č il corridore nei cieli
ha incurvato l'inondazione
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
l'aria č come una farfalla

 



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