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thanksgiving poetry

aqueles olhos pretos i elogiado uma vez assim
nós não éramos muitos
algum queixou-se ao mestre
quando eu for para trás ligar à terra
porque assim sad meu encantador?
macia agora a luz do dia
em todas as coisas não faladas de
quando eu estive escutar, discreetly dumb
composto do loveliness sozinho
poderíamos nós mas para saber
há um país completamente do vinho

 



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