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autumn poem

e pane del breaketh non di più
la signora, il vostro cuore si è girata verso polvere
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo
dio
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
sono andato su e giù le vie
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento

 



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