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memorial poem

abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
material da lua
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
eu gosto d
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
antes do saint de bronze solemn
diz de épocas velhas boas
o que era ele os motores ditos
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
esta é a canção da juventude
passagem através das paredes huddled e feias
e ainda andaram sobre

 



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