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para trás, gire para trás
a neve sussurra sobre mim
esse ano
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
eu estou no tempo cinzento frio
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
sobre o rio, no monte
as canções antigas
qual se mantem
quando eu era um menino na faculdade
macio como a cama na terra
apenas agora
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade

 



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