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mom poem

noastre de momente placute zbura
cât de sălbatică, cum de vrajitoare ca ciudat că viaţa ar trebui să se
de ce aşa de trist meu frumos unul?
nu există nici o scape de râu
am putut, dar stiu
să ne exprima pasiunile noastre baser
cele negru ochii i o dată atât de lăudat
nu este o ţară plină de vin


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