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grandma poem

poich ho ritenuto il senso della morte
non posso ora dirvi
cara moglie
nella sfera
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
in pieno delle rotture
chi ama la pioggia
malinconia, azzurro era
bench repine di amore e strofinio di motivo
diami la fame
mille anni silenziosi fa
il fratello, sono fuoco
conosce un rilascio poco costoso

 



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