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wedding poem

no sea falso
a alguno los dioses gordos
le estoy cantando
sueño, hermano gris de la muerte
el banquete real fue hecho
el viejo oeste, el viejo tiempo
gloom
deje una subsistencia de la alegría usted
a lo largo de los bancos
no puedo ahora decirle
arrojé mi alma al aire como un vuelo del halcón
lanzaron una piedra, usted lanzaron una piedra

 



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