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angel poem

poiché ho ritenuto il senso della morte
la pioggia finito e l'aria brillante
la fragranza è venuto
forse è materia che avete morto
moonlight profondo e tenero
sopra loro tutte, osservando giù
la nerezza rotola verso l'alto
ho vinto la corsa
morbidamente piangendo
le preghiere bianche piccole
dice a di buoni vecchi periodi

 



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