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best love poem

os dias melancólicos vieram
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
nas manhãs nuvem-cinzentas
pela ponte rude
para vestir o pensamento impetuoso
ao longo dos bancos
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
a criança que jogou afastado a folha após a folha
tempestade
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
rosas e ouro
sobre o rio beckon a mim
apenas agora

 



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