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type of poem

vinho velho a beber
em seus regimentals ásperos
é ido
aqueles no superior dizem que o conhecem, terra -- são liars
no alvorecer, disse
o alvorecer era verde maçã
através do peito aching da terra larga
há qualquer um lá
o corpo pode confinar
há uma hora do descanso calmo
minha mãe twines me as rosas molhadas com orvalho

 



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