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math poem

dove io trovili
veda, da questa falsificazione di lui
l'alba era verde mela
dai nostri posti nascosti
tutti gli anni sfavorevoli
sentite la pioggia?
per verità, per amore
ci è un paese in pieno di vino
dai prati ricchi con cereale
per potere vedere ogni lato di ogni domanda
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
qui cade nessuna luce

 



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