Mauro Montacchiesi

Uno zèfiro soave

I giorni si susseguirono,

noncuranti di soste.

Del tuo dolce bel viso,

esaltarono soltanto l'oblio.

Uno zèfiro soave,

mi lusingò con aspre illusioni.

Maggio era nel suo splendore.

Tra le gemme delle sue rose,

mi illusi di trovare te!

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Published on e-Stories.org on 08/04/2009.

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