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sex poem

mil anos silenciosos há
eu penso d esplêndido justo
sono, irmão cinzento da morte
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
eighty anos passaram, e mais
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
o doce com fern e levantou-se
esta é a canção da juventude
porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte

 



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