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autumn poem

deixe-nos expressar nossas paixőes mais baixas
vinho velho a beber
acima de e para baixo vai
para a verdade, para o amor
havia um strangeness em seus bordos
levantado dos mortos
eu vim no deserto porque minha alma é athirst
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
a festa real foi feita
splendor doce
simplesmente falando

 



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