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poem for pastors

ame-me no último, ou se você não
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
podem falar do amor em uma casa de campo
quando eu olhei em seus olhos
são você acordado?
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
serene da tarde e brilhante verdes
os céus que eram ashen e sober

 



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