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sad death poem

e con l'uccello di ronzio
malinconia, azzurro era
li ha fatti mai sentono parlare
oscillato nella culla del profondo
bucks neri grassi in una stanza del vino-barilotto
potrebbe conoscerla nella molla più in anticipo
un uccello ha cantato
per questi bracci bianchi circa il mio collo
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte

 



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