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Francesco Sinibaldi

Sleep, little darling.

In the dead of night, while a sound
disappears forgetting an answer and a
beautiful care, sleep little darling; your
eyes appear in the air reading aloud a
delicate story, a moving profile returns
in the dark, and when a line fades away
describing a soul and a sullen desire,
remember, alone, the light of a sunrise…

Francesco Sinibaldi

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