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poem for pastors

ma non posso ora leggerlo
uomo freddo severo
sopra loro tutte, osservando giĂą
il corpo può limitare
quando vado di nuovo a terra
le vecchie canzoni
sotto la mia finestra in una via della cittĂ 
ho vinto la corsa
riempio questa tazza
musing, fra il tramonto e l'oscuritĂ 
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
quando ero si è rotto a Londra

 



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