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fall poem

il più triste dell'anno
sopra il fiume, sulla collina
lungo le serie
sono nell'amore con gli alti posti far-seeing
desolato e solo
li prevedo
nel porto di nuovo York
gloom
serene di pomeriggio e luminoso verdi
che cosa era esso i motori detti
in vostri bracci era il piacere tranquillo

 



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