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concrete poetry

há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
desolado e solitário
levantado dos mortos
doce e forte
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
deixe-nos plantar
veja que eu me dou a você
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
a agonia de ter demasiado poder

 



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