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grandmother poem

alti pareti ed enorme
ciň č l'arsenale
cittŕ che non č una cittŕ
sotto la mia finestra in una via della cittŕ
rinnovi la visione di piacere
chi chiamerŕ il vento
in tutte le cose non parlate di
ho entrato nel deserto perché la mia anima č athirst
in possa
siete il mio compagno
sono fevered
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi

 



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