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son poem

perchè facciali sempre basamento là che rabbrividisce
fra le montagne ho vagato
come le aquile sul high alto
aumentato dai morti
sono il vento che esita
ho visto con gli occhi aperti
dite che lo amate
sentite la pioggia?
sotto la mia finestra in una via della città
conosco che cosa state andando dire
deve andare indietro, ha detto

 



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