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friend poetry

desolado e solitário
flor branca da espuma, flor vermelha da flama
doce e forte
no porto de york novo
sob a folha dusky do laurel
para a verdade, para o amor
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
carrinho aqui por meu lado
vinho velho a beber
sobre o rio, no monte
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
com os olhos meek, marrons

 



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