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prose poetry

vi ricordate di
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
ed ancora hanno camminato sopra
poco cancello è stato raggiunto in fine
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
ultima mezzanotte
se esso
sto cantando voi
chi ama la pioggia
nella sfera
la mia madre lo ha insegnato che ogni notte
da me indegno e sconosciuto

 



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