Instale o Steam
iniciar sessão
|
idioma
简体中文 (Chinês simplificado)
繁體中文 (Chinês tradicional)
日本語 (Japonês)
한국어 (Coreano)
ไทย (Tailandês)
Български (Búlgaro)
Čeština (Tcheco)
Dansk (Dinamarquês)
Deutsch (Alemão)
English (Inglês)
Español-España (Espanhol — Espanha)
Español-Latinoamérica (Espanhol — América Latina)
Ελληνικά (Grego)
Français (Francês)
Italiano (Italiano)
Bahasa Indonesia (Indonésio)
Magyar (Húngaro)
Nederlands (Holandês)
Norsk (Norueguês)
Polski (Polonês)
Português (Portugal)
Română (Romeno)
Русский (Russo)
Suomi (Finlandês)
Svenska (Sueco)
Türkçe (Turco)
Tiếng Việt (Vietnamita)
Українська (Ucraniano)
Relatar um problema com a tradução
Even in the moment of our earliest kiss,
When sighed the straitened bud into the flower,
Sat the dry seed of most unwelcome this;
And that I knew, though not the day and hour.
Too season-wise am I, being country-bred,
To tilt at autumn or defy the frost:
Snuffing the chill even as my fathers did,
I say with them, "What's out tonight is lost."
I only hoped, with the mild hope of all
Who watch the leaf take shape upon the tree,
A fairer summer and
🍖 -- 🎄 -- 🎁 -- 👾 -- 📕 -- 🐛 -- 🐳 -- 💛 -- 🌂 -- 👔 -- 🎍 -- 🌋 -- 🥞 -- 🎁 -- 🍇
____________________________####__________
___________________________######_________
____________________________####__________
_____________________________##___________
___________________________######_________
__________________________#######_________
__####__________________#########_________
_######________________###_######_________
_######_______________###__######_________
__####_______________###___######_________
_____##################____######_________
_____##################+rep#######________
______#################____######_________
_______###_______#####_____######_________
______###_______#####______######_________
_____###________#####______######_________
#######_________##########_##############__
NAPALONY STULEJARZ ZAMIESZKUJĄCY OKOLICZNE PIWNICE