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retirement poem

fala não bem
uma palavra do vôo de aqui e lá
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza
tempestade
diga-me
trançado e tecido
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
dê-me a fome
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
eu vi com olhos abertos
acima de e para baixo vai

 



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