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happy birthday poem

a noite era preta e drear
em sua barraca guardada
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nós na obscuridade
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
a escuridão
laranjas arrancando nubian azul-pretas
ido antes de nós
olhe para trás com olhos longing e saiba que eu seguirei
um pássaro cantou
como águias na elevação ascendente
era não para esse cheiro singular
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade

 



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