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sad love poem

como uma vela branca
o corpo pode confinar
uma vez este turf macio
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
cidade que no uma cidade
traga-me a cano macia
eu estive pelo casement aberto
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se

 



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