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birthday poetry

mil anos silenciosos há
escute
eu sou velho e cego
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
short e doce, e nós viemos à extremidade dela
o que era ele os motores ditos
trançado e tecido
ainda seu cinza balança a torre acima do mar
eu verei uma estrela hoje à noite

 



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