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teen poems

che cosa era esso i motori detti
tristi sono che conoscono non l'amore
andato prima di noi
al lato di un campo raso
poco cancello č stato raggiunto in fine
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
come le aquile sul high alto
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
forse
deve andare indietro, ha detto
ed ancora hanno camminato sopra
quando venite stasera

 



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