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wedding poem

mas eu não posso lê-lo agora
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
renove a visão do prazer
embora eu sou pouco como todas as coisas pequenas
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
era o outono do ano
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
é frequentemente não assim?
se o slayer vermelho pensar slays

 



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