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happy birthday poem

porque são as coisas que não têm nenhuma morte
eu disse, mim fechei meu coração
como uma vela branca
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
um céu que nunca soubesse o sol, a lua ou as estrelas
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
com alegria e maravilha
material da lua
eu soube o silêncio das estrelas e do mar
baixo! ' tis um a noite do gala
o sol está acima
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
levantou-se e o âmbar era o por do sol no rio

 



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