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best friend poem

não se aflija que sobre
sono doce em suas sepulturas humble
os dias melancólicos vieram
o prado estava rastejando
de repente, fora das maneiras escuras e frondosas
fala não bem
não gire sua cabeça
f4-lo ouvem-se sempre de
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
diga-me não
não permaneça não mais

 



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