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sympathy poem

traga-me a canção macia
existir da cisne
um olhar é mas um raio
calma como que segundo verão
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
são você acordado?
eu sou velho e cego
disse
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
poderíamos nós mas para saber
o ar é como uma borboleta
ao longo dos bancos
esplêndido e terrível seu amor

 



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