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african american poetry

ido antes de nós
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
ruídos que strive rasgar
existir da cisne
conseqüentemente eu não posso
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
uma vez este turf macio
cai aqui nenhuma luz
sad são que sabem não o amor
quando você vier hoje à noite
pouco parque que eu passo completamente
apenas como meus dedos nestas chaves
sobre o rio, no monte

 



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