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happy birthday poem

para a verdade, para o amor
minha alma é um campo ploughed escuro
sob a folha dusky do laurel
eu gosto d
eu despise meus amigos mais do que vocę
acima do sul na ruptura do dia
havia nunca um som ao lado da madeira mas de uma
um pássaro cantou
tęm vocę andar visto através da vila
vinho velho a beber
paredes e enorme elevados

 



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