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têm você andar visto através da vila
uma milha atrás
os arcos da ponte vermelha
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
era muitas e muito um ano há
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho
o que era ele os motores ditos
dê-me a fome
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
dentro desta sepultura humilde um conqueror encontra-se
pela ponte rude
duas fileiras dos repolhos

 



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