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haiku poem

talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
escute
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
completamente dos rasgos
ao longo dos bancos
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
deixe um sustento da alegria você
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
desolado e solitário

 



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