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anniversary poem

há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
três anos há hoje
até sua janela da câmara
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
deixe-nos expressar nossas paixões mais baixas
eu v todas as sagacidades humanas
dê-me
o ar está cheio do alvorecer e da mola
nos salões do sono você vagueou perto
nobility da morte outra vez

 



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