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romantic poem

em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
ido antes de nós
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
desde que eu senti o sentido da morte
em sua barraca guardada
é frequentemente não assim?
quando liberdade de sua altura da montanha
eu gosto d
o sol está acima
calma como que segundo verão

 



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