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black poetry

come un uomo nudo io va
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
li prevedo
noi che si sono levati in piedi
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
tutti quei tesori che si trovano
forse è materia che avete morto
malinconia, azzurro era
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
travails della terra
figlie di tempo

 



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