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child poetry

havia um strangeness em seus bordos
levantado dos mortos
estes sejam
eu tive um medo em minha vida
quietamente, com reverance, no awe
as canções antigas
pela ponte rude
o prado estava rastejando
era uma beleza nos dias
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
sobre o rio, no monte
esta é a canção da juventude

 



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