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memorial poem

eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
eu espero-o
era o outono do ano
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
uma pena do aço
e enquanto nós andamos a grama foi agitada fraca
calma como que segundo verăo
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos

 



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