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type of poetry

o alvorecer era verde maçã
quando eu era quebrou em Londres
há um país completamente do vinho
os poetas dizem
eu nunca soube que a terra teve assim muito ouro
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
o oeste velho, o tempo velho
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
são você vivo?
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor

 



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