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concrete poetry

la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
due file dei cavoli
la sua faccia č giusta e liscia e fine
tre giorni li ho sentiti addolorarsi quando mi situo completamente
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
quando libertŕ dalla sua altezza della montagna
corsa alto-sopportata
come esso

 



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