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death poem

meu filho está inoperante e eu sou cortina indo
glooms dos viv-carvalhos
felicidade
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
em setembro
as máscaras da noite estavam caindo rapidamente
deixe um sustento da alegria você
a terra mantem algum ir da vibração
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
uma vez este turf macio
os corredores de mármore resounding longos

 



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