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fall poetry

mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
um por um, como sae de uma árvore
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
diz de épocas velhas boas
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
filhas do tempo
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
tudo dentro e tudo sem mim
eu vi-o uma vez antes
com alegria e maravilha


 



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