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mom poem

antes do saint de bronze solemn
nós que estiveram
mundo que muda sob minha mão
você é bonito e desvanecido
noite misteriosa
calma como que segundo verão
vinho velho a beber
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho

 



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