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good bye poem

il prato stava strisciando
vivo dalla riva del fiume
ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
ci la nave della perla
in qualche luogo ho letto un racconto sconosciuto, vecchio, arrugginito
all'alba, ha detto
volont glimmer sul mare?
fiore bianco della gomma piuma, fiore rosso della fiamma
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
come livellare cade
ci erano tre nel prato dal ruscello

 



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