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short love poem

in corridoi di sonno avete vagato vicino
parla non bene
ad alcuno i dii grassi
la notte č scura ed i venti di inverno
questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
sotto la luna della raccolta
dolce e forte
senza sosta
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
per ero un consigliere gaunt e grave
č aumentato e l'ambra era il tramonto sul fiume

 



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