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mother daughter poem

la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
i poets dicono a
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
ci è una città, builded da nessuna mano
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
quando vado di nuovo a terra
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
le verità terribili questi sono
ma alas, sogni giusti
rose ed oro
amo rubare per un po'via

 



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