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el:
“La Moscova, cel mai frumos de mers, este iarna!” te-ai uitat catre mine aratandu-mi prima zapada. ea: “Mi-as dori acun, sa-ti devorez carnea, alba si tanara, a amintirii cu dintii tociti ai uitarii” el: “La Moscova prima zapada este atat de alba… incat, urmele albe ale pasilor tai, nu s-ar mai intoarce niciodata…” te-ai uitat catre mine plangandu-mi prima zapada. ea: “Carnea amintirii tale, albe, imi ninge acum pasii pierduti in prima zapada…din Moscova” m-am uitat catre tine, aratandu-ti prima carne alba, a uitarilor mele DA! LA MOSCOVA CEL MAI FRUMOS DE MERS, ESTE IARNA!
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