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mother daughter poem

sob a lua da colheita
o sol está acima
a mulher faltou-me muito, como vocę se chama me, chamada
sobre o rio, no monte
eu sou o vento que wavers
uma tempestade está montando na maré
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
sombras voadas que varrem perto
splendor doce
através do peito aching da terra larga
eu estive pelo casement aberto
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless

 



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