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memorial poem

vedo tutti gli spiriti umani
una pesca piccola nel frutteto si č sviluppata
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
sonno dolce nelle vostre tombe humble
limps con la fermata del passo doloroso
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
l'aria č piena l'alba del e la molla
buona donna
lungo una riva del fiume
oscillato nella culla del profondo

 



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