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concrete poetry

l'alba era verde mela
conosco non dove
se esso
ora per una lotta attiva e cheerful
era una bellezza nei giorni
dolce e forte
chi è il corridore nei cieli
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscuritĂ 
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
senza sosta
piantiamo
riempio questa tazza

 



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