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love poem

ponemos
mi hijo es muerto y soy persiana que va
a través del pecho de dolor de la amplia tierra
claro de luna profundo y blando
cuál deseo comentar
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
con su pelo flaying violentamente
amigo, que sonrisa ha venido ser
la oscuridad rueda hacia arriba
me preguntan donde he estado
aquí miente una señora más hermosa
sobre-habi'a preparado el acontecimiento
tengo gusto de ella
no puedo sentir siempre su greatness

 



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