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funeral poem

avete camminare visto attraverso il villaggio
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
mescolisi
gli archi del ponticello rosso
con il tramonto
agito i miei capelli nel vento della mattina
dal ponticello rude
il rullo triste del tamburo desonorizzato ha battimento
short e dolce ed abbiamo arrivato alla fine di esso
l'aria è come una farfalla
lasci il unsaid bello di parole

 



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