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type of poetry

traga-me a canção macia
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
acima dos prados ricos com milho
não do mundo largo do todo
eu estou cantando-lhe
bonito
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
há uns ganhos para todas nossas perdas
todo meu amor para meu doce
e assim vai
na terra silenciosa
levantado dos mortos
quietamente, com reverance, no awe

 



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