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poem for pastors

passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
deixe um sustento da alegria você
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
o dia é feito
o sol está acima
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
sob a lua da colheita
eu sou o vento que wavers

 



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