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al lato di un campo raso
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
il cielo
se esso
non ci č fuga dal fiume
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
che cosa noi ora farŕ
la mia anima va placcata nelle cose gorgeous
ha una radura, loveliness vento-riparato
nel gather di nerezza e chiedono
ho scagliato la mia anima all'aria come un volo del falco
sono vecchio e cieco

 



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