The moon sneaks through the branches.
As though the thoughts of my hopes.
He sneaks up and is silent.
The night is listless and silent.
What does the moon foretell in silence?
I hear the heart.
Come out and dispel my suspicions.
22 febbraio 2024
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[Senza titolo]
di Nastasimir Franovic
Trenches
The sun sets and divides.
It leads to death or eternity.
Ghosts call to the(…)