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thanksgiving poetry

em setembro
três anos há hoje
se ele
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
os arcos da ponte vermelha
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
agora que eu lhe esfriei
eu estou cantando-lhe
deixe-nos plantar
poderíamos nós mas para saber
eu ouvi-os na noite

 



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