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grandmother poem

quando venite stasera
le montagne sono gente silenziosa
e cosě va
quando ero un ragazzo all'universitŕ
non sia falso
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
il cielo
il corpo puň limitare
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
ho avuto un sogno e mi sono svegliato con esso
al lato di un campo raso

 



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