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lost love poem

eu amo as configurações melodious velhas
com seu cabelo que flaying descontroladamente
rode-me para baixo pelo prado
o justo e stately empregada doméstica, cujos olhos
algum queixou-se ao mestre
doce e forte
o mais saddest do ano
a filha, arte do thou vem morrer
um poeta, fazendo exame do breio fora de sua lingüeta
os arcos da ponte vermelha
levantado dos mortos

 



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