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poem for pastors

a noite era preta e drear
como deva mim ajude à direita ao mundo que está indo erradamente
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
pensamentos através de minha cabeça
um pássaro cantou
assim perdido

 



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