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short funny poem

a chuva sobre, e o ar brilhante
melancolia, azul era
fora do mar sparkling
há uma cidade, builded por nenhuma mão
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
splendor doce
era não para esse cheiro singular
com vermelho do sangue dos bordos e coração da pedra
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
a escuridão
sobre o rio beckon a mim
quem estará nomeando o vento

 



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