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A few blooms in Bohemia for your hair do a duty and make their red heavier to fit the brown of your beauty. But how many gallows morals have built along the trees! Joyful sin, tell me, in their shadow, are flowers allowed to please? The burdock and nettles are growing as every year and so people of Protectus settle with their tracts everyone's ear. Praying is just a waste as it was at the time I was born. The blooming aloe is my taste of your black hair adorned.
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Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
"The Song" by K. Toman (1877-1946)
A few blooms in Bohemia for your hair do a duty and make their red heavier to fit the brown of your beauty. But how many gallows morals have built along the trees! Joyful sin, tell me, in their shadow, are flowers allowed to please? The burdock and nettles are growing as every year and so people of Protectus settle with their tracts everyone's ear. Praying is just a waste as it was at the time I was born. The blooming aloe is my taste of your black hair adorned.
From Melancholic Journey (1906)
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Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 9:24 PM UTC
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