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concrete poetry

non posso ora dirvi
ancora tredici anni
sono vecchio e cieco
dai nostri posti nascosti
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
e pane del breaketh non di più
la terra mantiene certo andare di vibrazione
morbidamente ora la luce del giorno

 



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