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mom poem

nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
completamente dos rasgos
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
pharaoh, rei da terra de Egipto
como um homem despido mim vai
evidenciado no glimmer em seus olhos
não permaneça não mais
sob a folha dusky do laurel
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
trançado e tecido

 



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