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una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
le preghiere bianche piccole
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
metŕ di piaceri e palazzi benchč possiamo vagare
morbidamente piangendo
con il tramonto
se muoio, pensi soltanto questo me
come le aquile sul high alto
lucida l'ultima etŕ, il seguente con speranza č visto
una tempesta sta guidando sulla marea
noi che si sono levati in piedi
faccialo rotare giů dal prato

 



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