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baby poem

travails della terra
sentite la pioggia?
semplicità
quale si conservare
ci sono guadagni per tutte le nostre perdite
all'interno della mia mano tengo
ascolti il mare suonante
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
sono vecchio e cieco
ora
provato nel glimmer nei vostri occhi

 



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