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short poem

uccelli contro il vento di aprile
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
veda lo sperimentale
osservare di là
perchè
forse è materia che avete morto
cara moglie
l'aria è come una farfalla
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
quando libertà dalla sua altezza della montagna
quando venite stasera
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate

 



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