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The midnight road, though young men tread unknowing, Harbouring some thought of heaven, or haven hoping, Yields peace and plenty at the end. Or is it peace, This busy jarring on the nerves yet no outbreak? And this is plenty, then, cloves and sweet oils, the bees' honey, Enough kind food, enough kind speaking, A film of people moving, Their hands outstretched, to give and give? [  167 more words ]

 
Ph. © Massimo S. Volonté Fotografo​
M10, 35'cron

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