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suicide poetry

quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
questi sono
le montagne sono gente silenziosa
veda, rinviano
osservare di là
per coprire il pensiero ardente
quando il velare dagli occhi è alzato
ho visto le nubi fra le colline
l'odore del è aumentato così falso, le spine così allineare
gli archi del ponticello rosso
su e giù va
sono il vento che esita

 



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