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death poetry

bonito
ido antes de nós
e nse
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
qual eu desejo observar
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
ame-me no último, ou se vocę năo
de nossos lugares escondidos
muito bem, vocę liberais
mil anos silenciosos há

 



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