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prose poetry

i giorni malinconici sono venuto
come un uomo nudo io va
non giri la vostra testa
con il tramonto
e con l'uccello di ronzio
le canzoni antiche
li ho detestati
è ci qualcuno là
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
facce belle e tragical

 



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