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memorial poem

pharaoh, re della terra dell'egitto
nobility della morte ancora
come un uomo nudo io va
una volta questo tappeto erboso molle
amo la mia ora di vento e di luce
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
lasci il unsaid bello di parole
se esso
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta cosě tanto oro
conosco che cosa state andando dire
le tonalitŕ della notte stavano cadendo velocemente
era l'autunno dell'anno
le canzoni antiche
penso spesso alla cittŕ bella

 



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