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christmas poem

noite misteriosa
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
em números mournful
diz de épocas velhas boas
glass-blower do tempo
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
quando, cheio do amor morno e ansioso
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
vinho velho a beber

 



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