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funeral poem

serene da tarde e brilhante verdes
rosas e ouro
há três maneiras em que os homens fazem exame
nós não éramos muitos
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
diga-me não
como uma vela branca
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
cai aqui nenhuma luz
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
veio fazer exame de me pela mão

 



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