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al lato di un campo raso
non c'sono nessuna preda io dei pensieri difficili
in possa
l'alba era verde mela
il merriment infinito e insensato delle stelle
era un oysterman giovane alto
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
gli archi del ponticello rosso
sentite la pioggia?
è spesso non così?
quando ero si è rotto a Londra

 



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