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cowboy poetry

perchč cosě triste mio bello?
quando il velare dagli occhi č alzato
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
e come potreste sogno della riunione
facce belle e tragical
la luce ritirata
ad alcuno i dii grassi
la luna aumentante ha nascosto le stelle
č venuto prenderlo dalla mano
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si č sviluppata
ero un goddess ere il marmo lo ha trovato
come mi trovo coperto dentro, selezionato dentro

 



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