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veja, desta moeda falsa dele
há uma hora do descanso calmo
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
para vir assim logo a isto imaginou a obscuridade
muito bem, você liberais
limps com parar o ritmo doloroso
encontra-se aqui uma senhora a mais bonita
são você acordado?
sob a lua da colheita
eu encho este copo
cai aqui nenhuma luz
os dias melancólicos vieram
vinho velho a beber

 



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