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halloween poetry

le vecchie canzoni
impaurito nient'altro, dico
chi chiamerŕ il vento
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
calma come che seconda estate
come le aquile sul high alto
quando libertŕ dalla sua altezza della montagna
ho vinto la corsa
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
era molte e molto un anno fa

 



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