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modern poetry

minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
para a verdade, para o amor
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
diga-me
cai aqui nenhuma luz
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
deus
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
os dias endeared a cada MUSE

 



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