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family poetry

eu sou o vento que wavers
paredes e enorme elevados
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
no alvorecer, disse
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
porque sĂŁo as coisas que nĂŁo tĂŞm nenhuma morte
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
esplĂŞndido e terrĂ­vel seu amor
agora quando meus bordos viverem
eu sou velho e cego
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave

 



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