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sad poem

um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb
porque o faça sempre carrinho que tirita lá
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
doce e forte
abaixo do helm do guerreiro
todo meu amor para meu doce
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
eu vi as estrelas as mais orgulhosas
sobre o rio, no monte
é frequentemente não assim?
não seja falso
quando eu era quebrou em Londres

 



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