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sad poem

mulher boa
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
você é bonito e desvanecido
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
vindo para baixo no alvorecer dos montes windless
como eu me encontro telhado dentro, selecionado dentro
cão do gingham e o gato do calico
aflija-se não para o invisível
as canções velhas
três anos há hoje
o movimento do seu corpo é como a música
filhas do tempo

 



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