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autumn poetry

improvvisamente, dai sensi scuri e frondosi
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello
li ho detestati
li ho sentiti nella notte
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
ci è un paese in pieno di vino
perchè così triste mio bello?
indietro, giri indietro

 



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