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autumn poem

chi chiamerà il vento
a che cosa una donna la paragonerà cara
la neve bisbiglia circa me
che cosa noi ora farà
lascilo muoversi lentamente tramite la via
ci era uno strangeness sui vostri labbri
movimento del vostro corpo è come musica
ma alas, sogni giusti
glass-blower di tempo
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
una parola di volo di qui e là
nella terra silenziosa

 



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