Louise Glück Averno Questo è il momento in cui vedi di nuovo le bacche rosse del sorbo selvatico e nel cielo scuro le migrazioni notturne degli uccelli. Mi addolora pensare che i morti non le vedranno queste cose su cui facciamo affidamento, esse svaniscono. Allora cosa farà l’anima per rinfrancarsi? Leggi tutto…
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