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teacher poem

ame-me no último, ou se você não
diga-me
macia weeping
ao longo de um river-side
a noite é escura, e os ventos do inverno
têm você ouvido
macio como a cama na terra
o cheiro do levantou-se assim falso, os espinhos assim verdadeiros
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
calma como que segundo verão
sob a folha dusky do laurel

 



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