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teacher poem

ombre alate che scopano vicino
con i suoi capelli che flaying sfrenatamente
che cosa noi ora farŕ
conosco non dove
uno sguardo č ma un raggio
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
č venuto prenderlo dalla mano
le preghiere bianche piccole
ci č un'ora di riposo pacifico
alti pareti ed enorme
le montagne sono gente silenziosa

 



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