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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2010-12-30 | [This text should be read in romana] | Submited by nastasia herinean
In alto c’è un pino distorto
sta intento ed ascolta l’abisso col fusto piegato a balestra. Rifugio d’uccelli notturni, nell’ora più alta risuona d’un battere d’ali veloce. Ha pure un suo nido il mio cuore sospeso nel buio, una voce; sta pure in ascolto, la notte.
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