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fall poem

le montagne sono gente silenziosa
ottanta anni hanno passato e più
l'alba era verde mela
ho detto, io ho chiuso il mio cuore
sole e vento e battimento del mare
un pensiero dolce solenne
la donna molto ha mancato, come denominate a me, chiamata a me
pensate, il mio ragazzo, quando metto i miei bracci intorno voi
li prevedo
osservare di là
quando ho rinviato al tramonto

 



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