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concrete poetry

calma come che seconda estate
era l'autunno dell'anno
che cosa io devono voi
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
li prevedo
il padrone dei destini umani sono io
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
due file dei cavoli
bello
rumori che si sforzano strapparsi
in sua tenda custodita
il sole č in su

 



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