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nós que estiveram
eu não pray para a paz
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
este é o navio da pérola
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
a terra mantem algum ir da vibração
o doce com fern e levantou-se
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro

 



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