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In my time, there was a river called Tejo that stretched out to the Sun on the horizon line.
It went from end to end, and in its eyes it seemed exactly like a mirror because, from what I knew, only a mirror could resemble that.
My eyelids fall, and with that, (so simple that) there are no eyes, no river, no balconies, no nothing.

António Gedeãoin 'Poemas Póstumos'
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