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brother poem

você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
acima dos prados ricos com milho
os céus que eram ashen e sober
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
brilha a última idade, o seguinte com esperança é visto
os poetas dizem
as sombras colocam ao longo de broadway

 



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