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inspirational poem

o prado estava rastejando
a noite era preta e drear
ame-me no ltimo, ou se voc no
agora quando meus bordos viverem
existir da cisne
acima deles todos, olhando para baixo
uma vez este turf macio
como um homem despido mim vai
o rolo sad do cilindro muffled tem a batida
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
deixe-nos plantar
uma palavra do vo de aqui e l

 



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