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anniversary poetry

para eu era um conselheiro gaunt, grave
algum queixou-se ao mestre
deus
mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
homem frio stern
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
muito bem, você liberais
glass-blower do tempo
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
você ouve a chuva?
estes sejam
melancolia, azul era

 



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