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autumn poetry

questi sono
vado il mio senso complacently
la luce ritirata
che probabilità spiteful ruba i unawares
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
benchè sia piccolo come tutte le cose piccole
sotto la luna della raccolta
buona donna
dalla finestra un mare degli alberi verdi
il mio amore allineare dal suo cuscino è aumentato
ha incurvato l'inondazione
non ho saputo mai che la terra ha avuta così tanto oro
città che non è una città

 



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