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modern poetry

veja, desta moeda falsa dele
última noite a lua cheia colocou um pano do branco
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
do assoalho ao teto
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
cara esposa
conseqüentemente eu não posso
há um país completamente do vinho
noite misteriosa
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
são você acordado?
como como as estrelas é este o branco, as caras nameless

 



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