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pumpkin poem

non brucio incenso
perchè così triste mio bello?
e come potreste sogno della riunione
il cielo
faccia i ragazzi e le ragazze ancora vanno
sono andati i tre, quelle sorelle rare
volontĂ  glimmer sul mare?
nelle mattine nube-grige
dicami non
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
vivo dalla riva del fiume

 



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