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black poetry

non dal mondo largo di tutto
faccio la mia protezione, ma nessuno sa
devo dire buona notte
la mia anima č un campo arato scuro
dai prati ricchi con cereale
i corridoi di marmo resounding lunghi
il piů triste dell'anno
con gli occhi meek e marroni
tutti dentro e tutti senza di me
da solo

 



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