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poems

quando eu era quebrou em Londres
não seja falso
gloom
os corredores de mármore resounding longos
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
tropeçando acima, caindo para baixo
ido antes de nós
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
estrela-poeira e luz vaporosa
qual eu desejo observar
caras bonitas, tragical
você é bonito e desvanecido
eu ofereci-os todo o farewell

 



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