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sad love poem

il più triste dell'anno
quanto selvaggio, come strega-come bizzarro che la vita dovrebbe essere
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
sono nell'amore con gli alti posti far-seeing
mi sono levato in piedi
quale desidero rilevare
vecchio vino da bere
mescolisi
con il tramonto
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma

 



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