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poetry poem

talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
em todas as coisas não faladas de
o sol está acima
eu ofereci-os todo o farewell
não esteja irritado com mim
mas alas, sonhos justos
encontra-se aqui uma senhora a mais bonita
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
da canção e do sonho para ido sempre
na esfera

 



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