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poetry

quem estará nomeando o vento
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim
eu moldei o mundo
em todas as coisas não faladas de
algum queixou-se ao mestre
ainda treze anos
diga-me
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
escute o mar soando
splendor doce
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
antes do saint de bronze solemn

 



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