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sad death poem

mi dolor, cuando ella está aquí con mí
algunos días más ventosos
fuera del profundo y de la obscuridad
el pequeño lamentable, usado, caras el reír
o justo y stately criada, que ojos
le detesté
una sombra gris fina en el borde del pensamiento
me preguntan donde he estado
la hija, arte del thou viene morir
las viejas canciones

 



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