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friend poem

ame-me no último, ou se você não
a escuridão rola para cima
uma vez este turf macio
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
e ainda andaram sobre
sob a lua da colheita
cante-o outra vez à canção cantado
o dia é feito
o merriment infinito, foolish das estrelas
os dias melancólicos vieram
você ouve a chuva?

 



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