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funeral poem

não esteja irritado com mim
aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
havia um momento em anos anteriores
eu não pray para a paz
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
os céus que eram ashen e sober
era muitas e muito um ano há
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
de repente, fora das maneiras escuras e frondosas
levantado dos mortos
uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo

 



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