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poem for pastors

e cosě va
in possa
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
conosco non dove
che cosa era esso i motori detti
un pensiero dolce solenne
improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
sotto la luna della raccolta
malinconia, azzurro era

 



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