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memorial poem

eu estou cantando-lhe
o ar é como uma borboleta
eu sou uma mulher
paredes e enorme elevados
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
não permaneça não mais
eu tive um sonho e eu acordei com ele
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
sob a folha dusky do laurel
em números mournful
fora do mar sparkling

 



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