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funeral poem

ascolti
non sia falso
mi chiedono dove sono stato
mistero piů scuro e piů sconosciuto
ancora tredici anni
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
ho avuto un sogno e mi sono svegliato con esso
ciň č l'arsenale

 



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