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mother poem

eu estou cantando-lhe
os drowses pálidos do dia no ocidental embebem
cara esposa
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
dentro de minha mão eu prendo
deixe-nos plantar
em possa
sol e vento e batida do mar
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
eu não posso dizê-lo agora
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
este é o arsenal
veja, desta moeda falsa dele

 



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