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footprint poem

non eravamo molti
lungo una riva del fiume
risiedo alla montagna della tabella
perchè
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
scuro-eyed
ho visto la prima pera
sono il vento che esita
dal profondo e l'oscurità
quando vado di nuovo a terra
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
il fratello, sono fuoco
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
ottanta anni hanno passato e più

 



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