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lyric poem

era un oysterman giovane alto
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
ancora tredici anni
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
dove io trovili
sto morendo
splendor dolce
mi sono sentito che una principessa sicura
sotto il timone del guerriero
nel vostro volo
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce

 



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