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autumn poem

filhas do tempo
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razăo
um olhar é mas um raio
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
eu vi-o uma vez antes
ouviu as crianças jogar no sol
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza

 



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