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good bye poem

entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
um com vocę
eu penso d esplęndido justo
duas fileiras dos repolhos
uma vida na onda do oceano
poderíamos nós mas para saber
algum queixou-se ao mestre
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
veja, eles retornam
a mulher faltou-me muito, como vocę se chama me, chamada
a noite era preta e drear

 



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