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lyric poem

riempio questa tazza
vecchio vino da bere
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
le preghiere bianche piccole
corsa alto-sopportata
non si addolori che finito
della l'oscuritŕ e pace nel mia base finale
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima č athirst
alti pareti ed enorme
dicami piů di meno o dicami di piů
come come le stelle č questo il bianco, facce nameless

 



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