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romantic poetry

eu sou velho e cego
são idos os três, aquelas irmãs raras
ruídos que strive rasgar
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
gaily através dos campos nós dançamos
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
como águias na elevação ascendente
agora para uma luta viva e cheerful
havia um momento em anos anteriores
material da lua

 



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