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black poetry

quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos
o prado estava rastejando
doce e forte
diz de épocas velhas boas
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
não permaneça não mais
eu gosto d
eu quero saber Ă s vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade

 



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