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love poetry

improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
ho vinto la corsa
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
felicitŕ
in sua tenda custodita
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
l'alba era verde mela
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella
indietro, giri indietro
fate non sentirsi
quale si conservare

 



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