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acrostic poem

conosco che cosa state andando dire
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
dal profondo e l'oscurità
uno sguardo è ma un raggio
sotto la mia finestra in una via della città
il giorno è fatto
morbido come la base nella terra
il prato stava strisciando
ciò è l'arsenale

 



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