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spanish poem

o prado estava rastejando
para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
era muitas e muito um ano há
receoso nĂŁo mais, eu digo
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
qual se mantem
os dias endeared a cada MUSE
as estrelas caĂ­ram do heaven
eu ofereci-os todo o farewell

 



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