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math poem

vinho velho a beber
em e sobre
agora quando meus bordos viverem
eu encho este copo
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
talvez
raça elevado-carregada
paredes e enorme elevados
o sol está acima
e meu nome é truthful
antes do saint de bronze solemn
o único punho clenched levantado e apronta-se
homem frio stern

 



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