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birthday poem

non posso ora dirvi
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
uno per uno, come va da un albero
lungamente fa la luce solare di estate lucidare
ora che mi sono raffreddato a voi
dal puntello, dal mare
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
la fragranza č venuto
fiori dei bambini
non rimanga nient'altro
le canzoni antiche
aumentato dai morti

 



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