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teacher poem

as montanhas são povos silenciosos
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
seja paciente, vida, quando o amor está na porta
não há nenhum rebanho, porém prestado atenção e tendido
deixe-me mover-se lentamente através da rua
a noite era preta e drear
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
eu estive pelo casement aberto
macio como a cama na terra

 



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