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poem for pastors

era o outono do ano
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
e como poderia você sonho da reunião
eu estou no amor com lugares far-seeing elevados
as montanhas são povos silenciosos
mundo que muda sob minha mão
amigo, cujo o sorriso veio ser
eu resido na montanha da tabela
tempestade

 



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