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nature poem

ciò è l'arsenale
l'agonia di avere troppa alimentazione
quando le ore del giorno sono numerate
fra il fumo e nebbia di un pomeriggio di dicembre
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
conosco non dove
semplicemente parlando
e con l'uccello di ronzio
moonlight profondo e tenero
ha scoppiato il vino feroce
fiori dei bambini
uno per uno, come va da un albero

 



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