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type of poem

no alvorecer, disse
ame-me no Ăşltimo, ou se vocĂŞ nĂŁo
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
eu sou o vento que wavers
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
vocĂŞ Ă© bonito e desvanecido

 



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