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angel poem

un gleam di oro il gloom in e gray
per verità, per amore
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
non ci è moltitudine, comunque guardato e teso
sole e vento e battimento del mare
penso spesso alla città bella
mondo che cambia sotto la mia mano
ora
così caduto
perchè allora, il mosto noi vede?
prima del san bronze solenne
ho visto la prima pera
migliori che il granito
debole-è traversata la canzone

 



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