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sorry poem

I sta în frig gri vreme
breaketh pâine şi nu mai mult
iată-mă, la mine în sifon, tifon şi beteală
le cere-mi unde am fost
deces al nobilimii din nou
nu este o ţară plină de vin
toate jos de ani
răsunător timp de coridoarele de marmura
înapoi, întoarce înapoi
o privire, dar este o rază

 



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