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teacher poem

tem por muito tempo a luz solar do verão brilhada
lá pela janela na casa velha
felicidade
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
um pássaro cantou
não se aflija que sobre
eu vi os archangels em minha maçã-árvore última noite
cara esposa
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
em sua barraca guardada
irmão, eu sou fogo

 



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