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completamente dos rasgos
como ela
eu estou cantando-lhe
duas fileiras dos repolhos
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
com o por do sol
nobility da morte outra vez
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
assim perdido
raça elevado-carregada
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
não permaneça não mais
eu vi as estrelas as mais orgulhosas

 



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