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poem for dad

traga-me a canção macia
fraco-é voada a canção
os poetas dizem
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
a música i ouvido com você era mais do que a música
esse ano
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
eu ando abaixo os trajetos do jardim
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim

 



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