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spanish poem

o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
quando eu retornei no por do sol
eu fui acima e trago as ruas
passado unrelenting do thou
eighty anos passaram, e mais
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
quando a noite drifts ao longo das ruas da cidade
sentar-se em seu balancim que espera seu chá
como uma vela branca

 



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