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haiku poetry

eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
e nse
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
pela costa, pelo mar
não se aflija que sobre
acima dos prados ricos com milho
sob a lua da colheita
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
ao longo dos bancos
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias

 



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