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baby poem

o ar é como uma borboleta
o relâmpago piscou, e levantou
behold mim, em meus chiffon, gauze e ouropel
e assim vai
têm você ouvido
traga-me a canção macia
é verdadeiro que você diz que os deuses lhe são mais uso do que fairies
eu ouvi-me que uma determinada princesa
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
como ele de quem espírito na chama do meio-dia
as verdades terríveis estes sejam

 



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