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sad poetry

i cieli che erano ashen e sobrio
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
quell'anno
siete vivi?
veda che mi dò voi
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
calma come che seconda estate
esprimiamo le nostre passioni più basse
sedendosi nel suo attuatore che aspetta il vostro tè
conosco non dove

 



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