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romantic poetry

debajo de la hoja oscura del laurel
qué nosotros ahora hará
calma como que segundo verano
de la canción y del sueño para ido siempre
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
la noche era negra y drear
rosas y oro
la señora, su corazón ha dado vuelta al polvo
dulce y fuerte
disparando para arriba, cayendo abajo
en sus regimentals desiguales
y mi nombre es veraz
desdeño a mis amigos más que usted
paredes y enorme altos

 



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