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contemporary poetry

quando eu olhei em seus olhos
agora quando meus bordos viverem
mulher boa
vinho velho a beber
duas fileiras dos repolhos
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
minha măe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
estourou o vinho feroz
veja, eles retornam
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
era muitas e muito um ano há

 



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