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sad poem

o oeste velho, o tempo velho
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
qual se mantem
sol e vento e batida do mar
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade
splendor doce
para poder ver cada lado de cada pergunta
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
assim perdido

 



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