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fall poetry

o prado estava rastejando
há um que esse i amou uma vez assim muito
três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
era muitas e muito um ano há
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
as canções velhas
eu não queimo nenhum incense
cidade que não é uma cidade
eu amei uma mulher
uma pena do aço
sob a folha dusky do laurel
quem é o corredor nos céus
como ela

 



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