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sad poetry

rode-me para baixo pelo prado
burly, humble-abelha aplanar
quem é o corredor nos céus
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
renove a visão do prazer
eliminar, esforçando-se vainly
veja, desta moeda falsa dele
eu sou velho e cego
quando uma ação for feita para a liberdade
entre o fumo e a névoa de uma tarde de dezembro
homem frio stern

 



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