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o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
como selvagem, como bruxa-como estranho que a vida deve ser
eu sou velho e cego
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
sobre o rio, no monte
teria mesmo seu gracejo
porque assim sad meu encantador?
tempestade
os poetas dizem
truely
agora quando meus bordos viverem

 



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