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teen poem

uma tempestade está montando na maré
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
pássaros de encontro ao vento de abril
mulher boa
disse
alguns dias mais ventosos
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
nobility da morte outra vez
eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
agora quando meus bordos viverem
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
sob a lua da colheita
eu ouvi-os na noite

 



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