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gothic poetry

era un oysterman joven alto
ella cojea con parar paso doloroso
de la canción y del sueño para ido siempre
a qué una mujer la comparará querida
en un viejo compartimiento se encendió suavemente
es verdad que usted dice que los dioses son más uso a usted que hadas
qué nosotros ahora hará
y todavía caminaron encendido
quién nombrará el viento

 



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