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autumn poem

una penna di acciaio
e con l'uccello di ronzio
non posso ora dirvi
ha sentito i bambini giocare al sole
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
ma non posso ora leggerlo
uno per uno, come va da un albero
splendido e terribile il vostro amore
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro

 



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