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The original: Dal portiere non c’era nessuno. C’era la luce sui poveri letti disfatti. E sopra un tavolaccio dormiva un ragazzaccio bellissimo. Uscì dalle sue braccia annuvolate, esitando, un gattino.\ Sandro Penna had a gift to turn the commonplace, and sometimes the straight-up vulgar, into sublime. This poem opens in the run-down scenery of a dilapidated hotel, often described with…
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