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mother poem

a neve sussurra sobre mim
a noite era preta e drear
esteja em mim como os modos eternal
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
não pendure nenhuma grinalda
esta bacia de prata antiga de meus
arched a inundação
por muito tempo há, no moonlight novo
eu ganhei a raça
glooms dos viv-carvalhos

 



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