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caras hermosas, tragical
de largo hace, en el claro de luna joven
contra la llama verde del espino-a'rbol
haga a muchachos y las muchachas todavía van
el olor del se levantó tan falso, las espinas tan verdades
algún se quejó al amo
cuando usted viene esta noche
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
dentro de mi mano sostengo
para estos brazos blancos sobre mi cuello

 



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