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funeral poem

braided e tessuto
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
dal ponticello rude
indietro, giri indietro
nelle mattine nube-grige
passando tramite le pareti huddled ed ugly
li prevedo
quando ho rinviato al tramonto
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
dio
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
chi chiamerà il vento

 



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