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autumn poetry

i giorni endeared ad ogni MUSE
la sua faccia è giusta e liscia e fine
ottanta anni hanno passato e piĂą
non rimanga nient'altro
circa ha sporto querela al padrone
quando un atto è fatto per la libertà
sotto la luna della raccolta
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
quegli occhi neri i una volta così elogiato
la notte era nera e drear
è aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume
città che non è una città

 



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