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poem for pastors

in sua tenda custodita
rose ed oro
non ci fuga dal fiume
tempesta
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine
truely
ho visto che hunched e rabbrividendo sulle pietre
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
siete il mio compagno
amo le vecchie disposizioni melodious
se esso
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi
migliori che il granito
nelle mattine nube-grige

 



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