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sympathy poem

era uma oysterman novo alto
a lua levantando-se escondeu as estrelas
acima dos prados ricos com milho
e nse
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
dê-me a fome
eu năo queimo nenhum incense
em seu vôo
uma pena do aço
para entăo without
este é o arsenal

 



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