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mother poem

chi chiamerĂ  il vento
ho visto che il dio voi lo dubita?
non si addolori che finito
la notte è scura ed i venti di inverno
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
i corridoi di marmo resounding lunghi
splendor dolce
sono il vento che esita
nella sfera
andato prima di noi
ora mentre i miei labbri stanno vivendo

 



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