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death poem

simplitate
mea durere, atunci când ea aici cu mine
a fost în toamna anului
Sunt pe moarte
sumbru sub frunze de dafin
şi cum ai putut vis de întâlnire
i, prin urmare, nu pot
fiul meu este mort şi voi orb
i nu arde tămâie
în cazul în care
un poet, având în frâu luate de pe limba
toate şi în toate fără a-mi
aer este ca o fluture

 



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