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gli archi del ponticello rosso
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
ho detto
la figlia, l'arte di thou viene morire
portimi la canzone morbida
sopra i tetti corra le ombre delle nubi
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
lo ho visto una volta prima
in settembre
corsa alto-sopportata
era molte e molto un anno fa
lungamente fa, nel moonlight giovane

 



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