Where Not Long Ago We Talked (Carlos Drummond de Andrade Poems)
It is an old piano, belonged to a grandmother, dead in another century. And it plays and it cries and ...
It is an old piano, belonged to a grandmother, dead in another century. And it plays and it cries and ...
There comes a time when we no longer say: my God.A time of absolute purity.A time when we no longer ...
When I was born, a crooked angel,the kind who live in shadows,said: Go, Carlos! Be gauche in life.The houses spy ...
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