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grandmother poem

não há nenhum escape pelo rio
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
porque assim sad meu encantador?
com alegria e maravilha
vinho velho a beber
eu amo minha hora do vento e da luz
e nse
eu sobre-tinha preparado o evento
bucks pretos gordos em um quarto do vinho-tambor
travails da terra

 



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