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poem for pastors

ho sentito tutto il giorno il vento
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
la mia anima è un campo arato scuro
l'aria è come una farfalla
e così va
dal pavimento al soffitto
lasci una conservazione di gioia voi
dicami più di meno o dicami di più
era un oysterman giovane alto

 



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