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sad death poem

meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
alguns dias mais ventosos
fora do profundo e da obscuridade
o pitiful pequeno, desgastado, caras rir
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
eu detestei-o
uma sombra cinzenta fina na borda do pensamento
perguntam-me onde eu estive
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
as canções velhas

 



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