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love poetry chat

el sol caminó abajo de su trono de oro
las estrellas cayeron de cielo
déjeme ser triste
una pluma del acero
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
con alegría y maravilla
y todavía caminaron encendido
tormenta
gaily a través de los campos bailamos
se van los tres, esas hermanas raras

 



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