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mom poem

cantili ancora alla canzone cantati
sopra il fiume beckon a me
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
fino alla sua finestra dell'alloggiamento
quindi non posso
quale desidero rilevare
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
perchè così triste mio bello?
facce belle e tragical
fiori dei bambini

 



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