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daughter poem

melancolia, azul era
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
eu não pray para a paz
esta é a canção da juventude
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
o que mim lhe devem
uma pena do aço
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
ido antes de nós
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
eu ouvi-os na noite

 



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