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poem for dad

quando ero si è rotto a Londra
fate non sentirsi
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
semplicità
i loro capelli bei
ci sono tre sensi in cui gli uomini prendono
per coprire il pensiero ardente
la notte scorsa la luna piena ha posto un panno del bianco
tranquillamente, con il reverance, nel awe
quando il vento funziona contro di noi nell'oscurità
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
andato prima di noi

 



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