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poem and quote

o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
algum queixou-se ao mestre
nós não éramos muitos
felicidade
pôde tê-lo sabido na mola mais adiantada
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
ao longo dos bancos
quando as horas do dia forem numeradas
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente

 



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