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gothic poetry

para estes braços brancos sobre minha garganta
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
de encontro ŕ flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
noite misteriosa
a escuridăo
mil anos silenciosos há
eu vi que vocę hunched e tiritando nas pedras
veja, eles retornam
deixe-nos plantar

 



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