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writing poetry

a noite era preta e drear
eu năo posso dizę-lo agora
agora quando meus bordos viverem
abaixo de minha janela em uma rua da cidade
quando vocę vier hoje ŕ noite
como deva mim ajude ŕ direita ao mundo que está indo erradamente
em possa
eu vi as nuvens entre os montes
eu fiz um voto uma vez, um somente
como ela
algum queixou-se ao mestre

 



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