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death poetry

sono il vento che esita
quando un atto č fatto per la libertŕ
poco cancello č stato raggiunto in fine
benchč sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
osservare di lŕ
qui si trova una signora la piů bella
dicami non
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
della l'oscuritŕ e pace nel mia base finale
ottanta anni hanno passato e piů
senza sosta

 



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