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romantic poem

perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
all'alba, ha detto
da solo
hanno gettato una pietra, voi hanno gettato una pietra
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
l'alba era verde mela
da me indegno e sconosciuto
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
una parola di volo di qui e lĂ 
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine

 



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