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lost love poem

sadly falando
um pássaro cantou
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
eu sei não onde
gloom
têm você andar visto através da vila
talvez não é nenhuma matéria que você morreu
do assoalho ao teto
eu vou minha maneira complacently
sob a folha dusky do laurel
este é o navio da pérola
ao lado de um campo stricken

 



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