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grandma poem

na meia-noite
dê-me
deixe um sustento da alegria você
com o por do sol
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
se ele
porque
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
ruídos que strive rasgar
uma vida na onda do oceano
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
as montanhas são povos silenciosos

 



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