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acrostic poem

perchč allora, il mosto noi vede?
qui cade nessuna luce
aranci di coglitura nubian blu-neri
noi che si sono levati in piedi
calma come che seconda estate
fra le montagne ho vagato
siete chiari
con di anima dei labbri colore rosso e cuore della pietra
sono stancare di essere amaro e stancare di essere saggio
ho fatto una pausa la stoffa per tendine aperta

 



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