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thanksgiving poem

sopra il fiume beckon a me
siete bei e sbiaditi
calma come che seconda estate
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
è andato
nella terra silenziosa
ed ancora hanno camminato sopra
ancora tredici anni
ho visto le stelle piĂą fiere
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
deve andare indietro, ha detto

 



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