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sad death poem

de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
você pensa, meu menino, quando eu enrolo meus braços em você
sob a folha dusky do laurel
moonlight profundo e macio
como águias na elevação ascendente
apenas agora
eu verei uma estrela hoje à noite
um pássaro cantou
a o que uma mulher a comparará beloved
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes

 



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