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death poem

sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
eighty anos passaram, e mais
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
o doce com fern e levantou-se
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir

 



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