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all'interno della mia mano tengo
dio
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
con gioia e wonder
che probabilitŕ spiteful ruba i unawares
una penna di acciaio
ha incurvato l'inondazione

 



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