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sad love poem

glooms delle viv-quercie
abbiamo nessuno shame?
splendor dolce
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
sono nell'amore con gli alti posti far-seeing
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
ci č un paese in pieno di vino
quale si conservare

 



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