Soul that you do not rebel
the trails of airplanes,
through me,
cross oceans and gulfs.
not answer the questions of the world
but ask me every day.
Me, which are far less
the nearest anything. In
you dress fate
this unknown fellow who give their children every day.
- Children of no one will say. -
will know me, keep the wind
moving blades of grass and my hair never tied
and too free a woman?
Beatrice Niccolai
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