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i miss you poem

há qualquer um lá
nós que estiveram
duas fileiras dos repolhos
sobre o rio beckon a mim
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
em uma câmara velha iluminou-se macia
esta é a canção da juventude
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
as verdades terríveis estes sejam
eu estou morrendo

 



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