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há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
as canções antigas
em seus regimentals ásperos
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
eu estive pelo casement aberto
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade
todos tragam os anos

 



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