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death poem

dio
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
che cosa io devono voi
riempio questa tazza
splendido e terribile il vostro amore
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si è sviluppata
sotto il foglio dusky dell'alloro
per guardare tutto il giorno l'onda blu arricciarsi e rompersi
mille anni silenziosi fa

 



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