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poem for pastors

un pensiero dolce solenne
metà di piaceri e palazzi benchè possiamo vagare
il cielo
ho lanciato il mondo
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
nobility della morte ancora
quindi non posso
il sole è in su
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
a che cosa una donna la paragonerà cara


 



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