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Cada mirada estrena el mundo

martes, marzo 09, 2004

Lisboa sob névoa

Na névoa, a cidade, ébria
oscila, tomba.
Informes, as casas
perdem o lugar e o dia.
Cravadas no nada,
as paredes são menires,
pedras antigas, vagas
sem princípio, sem fim.

Fiama Hasse Pais Brandão

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