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vado il mio senso complacently
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
da solo
dio
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
mi levo in piedi nel tempo grigio freddo
è allineare che dite che i dii sono più uso a voi che i fairies
per coprire il pensiero ardente
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
sposti la terra in tempo nuvoloso
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno

 



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