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son poem

teria mesmo seu gracejo
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
sob uma árvore espalhando da castanha
embora repine do amor, e chafe da razăo
havia um momento em anos anteriores
eu vi-o uma vez antes
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
no alvorecer, disse
onde deva mim encontre-o
sol e vento e batida do mar
em seu vôo
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
eu sou o vento que wavers

 



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