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teen poem

sob a lua da colheita
o corpo pode confinar
eu detestei-o
o que era ele os motores ditos
deixe-nos piedade aqueles de que seja melhor fora do que nós são
do sol nem das estrelas
não esteja irritado com mim
o mestre de destinies humanos é mim
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
sob a folha dusky do laurel
pensamentos através de minha cabeça

 



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