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lyric poem

possono comunicare di amore in un cottage
migliori che il granito
tristemente parlando
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
ad alcuno i dii grassi
un poet, prendente il freno fuori della sua linguetta
vado il mio senso complacently
sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte

 



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