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spanish poem

a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
bonito
havia três no prado pelo ribeiro
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
raça elevado-carregada
eu vou minha maneira complacently
fala não bem
uplifting, como o vento fundiu

 



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