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autumn poem

o oeste velho, o tempo velho
gloom
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
o céu
última meia-noite
estes corações foram tecidos de alegrias e de cuidados humanos
em todas as coisas não faladas de
a escuridão
eu estive pelo casement aberto
simplesmente falando
vinho velho a beber

 



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