as whispers you come whence...

as whispers
sent to the air,
You come
like this morning fair,
and drops as You
on me your wholesome light
me feels silence yours giving me a flight...

and me sees how at Antonio dorn
night long that flower girl wept...
and how there at the bus terminus
blueliners just under the canopy of the misty sky slept...

and hears how at that golf course green
two white swans played flying, hopping...

and how that robust statue of Dante...
nodded to your cry of a song...
assolutamente...

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