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poem for pastors

in pieno delle rotture
l'odore del č aumentato cosě falso, le spine cosě allineare
oscillato nella culla del profondo
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
un uccello ha cantato

 



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