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poetry poem

se ele
vivido pelo river-side
truely
melancolia, azul era
os navios estão encontrando-se na baía
acima dos prados ricos com milho
nenhuma rapina é mim de pensamentos pobres
no porto de york novo
esse companheiro estranho veio em baralhar os pés
onde deva mim encontre-o
pouca porta foi alcançada no último
você está desobstruído
sua cara é justa e lisa e fina
eu sei o que você está indo dizer

 



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