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life poem

a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
quando o vento trabalhar de encontro a nĂłs na obscuridade
existir da cisne
diz de épocas velhas boas
as montanhas sĂŁo povos silenciosos
nĂłs colocamos
em algum lugar eu li um tale estranho, velho, oxidado
meu sorrow, quando for aqui com mim

 



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