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child poetry

nelle mattine nube-grige
mi sono sentito che una principessa sicura
sotto un albero di diffusione della castagna
o giusta e stately domestica, di cui occhi
sono il vento che esita
non rimanga nient'altro
sia in me come gli atteggiamenti eternal
se fossi molto sicuro
la nerezza ruba le forme di tutte le regine

 



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