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fall poem

non posso ritenere sempre il suo greatness
ma non posso ora leggerlo
quando un atto č fatto per la libertŕ
ho detto
ci situiamo
come lui di chi spirito nella fiammata del mezzogiorno
sole e vento e battimento del mare
babylon -- dove vado sognare
desolato e solo
che probabilitŕ spiteful ruba i unawares
in un vecchio alloggiamento si č illuminato morbidamente
fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
sono il vento che esita
poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte

 



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