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sorry poem

mejore que el granito
mi madre me enseñó que cada noche
mundo que cambia bajo mi mano
porqué tan es triste mi encantador?
cĂłmo como las estrellas es este el blanco, las caras sin nombre
esposa querida
una niebla conducĂ­a abajo
deje una subsistencia de la alegrĂ­a usted
el elevar, como el viento soplĂł

 



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