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são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
em setembro
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
eu estou cantando-lhe
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
poderíamos nós mas para saber
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
apenas agora
eu não pray para a paz
os céus que eram ashen e sober
arched a inundação

 



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